


I Had a Dream So Big and Loud

by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee



Series: True Love or Something [23]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider, Sick Fic, Theatre, tech week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee/pseuds/DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee
Summary: “I’m going to be late to work…no, your friends destroyed the coffee maker…yeah, they’re your friends when they’re stripping my coffee maker for parts at two in the morning…I am not a nice person without coffee, Lance…I need this, we’re getting a new batch of interns today…I am not mean to the interns!…Unless I don’t have my coffee…which I don’t...If I kill an intern it’s indirectly your fault…Lance…stop laughing at me…Lance…”There are new interns at the theatre - this is their story (sort of)Takes place prior to 'The Stars Light Up the Night'





	1. I Jumped So High I Touched the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR WONDERFUL COMMENTS, YOU'RE ALL AMAZING
> 
> A long, long time ago someone requested a POV Outsider fic for this series. And I was like "I could totally do a thing with the interns at the theatre" and then they appeared fully formed in my mind and demanded I write about them. 
> 
> This was originally going to be longer, and I have so many headcanons about these OCs and there are so many scenes I want to write featuring them and Team Voltron. ..but, like the characters in this fic, I have a head cold and I couldn't really get a longer thing to come together. If anyone's interested I would be totally down with coming back to this and adding more chapters later. So there's that. 
> 
> Also, sorry for all the theatre lingo...if you have questions, ask in the comments and I'll explain any terms I threw out there without good context. Also, the intern system described here is not 100% accurate, the responsibilities of interns will vary from company to company and I took some artistic license here and there just for convenience.

**I Jumped So High I Touched the Clouds**

            Alyssa is not going to be late to her first day of work, she is not, she is not, she is not – she is repeating an internal mantra with absolutely no way of ensuring its outcome is positive. She sighs to herself, drooping a little, and checks her watch again. It’s been a whole thirty seconds since she last checked. The line at the coffee shop she’s currently trapped in has moved a whole lot of nothing. Someone behind her must be having similar thoughts because she can hear his phone conversation and he sounds _pissed._

            “I’m going to be late to work…no, _your_ friends destroyed the coffee maker…yeah, they’re your friends when they’re stripping my coffee maker for parts at two in the morning…I am not a nice person without coffee, Lance…I need this, we’re getting a new batch of interns today…I am not mean to the interns!…Unless I don’t have my coffee…which I don’t...If I kill an intern it’s indirectly your fault…Lance…stop laughing at me… _Lance…”_

            Alyssa almost feels bad for the guy. Not bad enough to offer to switch places in line with him, though. He might be expecting new interns wherever he works but she _is_ a new intern where _she_ works and she’s pretty sure it’s objectively worse if the intern is late than the guy who already has a job secured.

            She finally makes it to the front of the line, hands over her thermos with a terse request for their strongest, bitterest brew, and pays the dumb corporate markup. She’d be making coffee at her apartment but she kind of hasn’t unpacked yet. It’s okay. She’s fine. She’s a functional adult with a college degree…she’s hoping that some of the boxes with her clothes in them are accessible; otherwise she’s going to run out of underwear very quickly. (She remembers being a little kid, utterly convinced that 22 was so _old_ and _adult…_ personal experience has told her that’s a big fat lie and the older she gets the more she misses being able to build a blanket fort to hide from her problems in).

            She gets her thermos, now filled with coffee and turns away to see the guy behind her has hung up with the mysterious Lance and is handing over his own travel mug to be filled with caffeinated bliss. It’s bright red and reads ‘World’s Okay-est Boyfriend’ in white letters on the side. It’s unexpectedly funny and she finds herself choking on a laugh looking at it. The guy glances at her questioningly. He’s hot but probably too old for her and definitely taken if the travel mug is anything to go by, with black hair pulled back in a stubby, messy ponytail but still managing to stick out everywhere somehow. Dark brows furrow over dark eyes and this does not look like a guy you’d want to mess with.

            “Uh, your travel mug. It’s funny,” she says awkwardly.

            He blinks at her slowly like it’s taking a moment for her comment to load in his brain. “Thanks,” he finally says like he’s not quite sure why she’s talking to him.

            She gives him an extremely awkward thumbs-up in response and then books it out of the coffee shop. She will _not_ be late to her first day of work.

…

            Two of the other interns are already there when Alyssa skids into the lobby, but not whomever they were supposed to be meeting (a Mr. Kogane, if she remembers correctly from the explanatory email she’s re-read possibly a million times). Not bad, Alyssa, she thinks to herself, not bad. Not the first one there, so not stuck loitering around uncertainly, but not the last so not forever dubbed ‘the one who wasn’t on time’ (that kind of thing can get you fired in this business – be too late to too many things and you’re out on your ass).

            The other two interns seem cool enough – Adela Rogers introduces herself with both first and last name and a firm handshake. She’s tall, taller than Alyssa, and absolutely gorgeous with warm, brown skin and bright amber eyes. When she looks at you it’s like there’s a laser beam going straight from her eyes into your soul – or at least that’s how Alyssa feels as she staggers out her own name.

            “Uh, hi, I’m Alyssa, I’m the costuming intern?”

            “Farid,” the third intern interrupts, bounding over to join them. Apparently he’s unpacked his coffee maker already. Or maybe he’s just like that naturally? It’s hard to tell. He’s tall too, why is everyone taller than her? But it’s a skinny, growth-spurty, puppy-with-too-big-paws kind of tall. His thick, dark eyebrows bounce all over his face as he flickers from expression to expression at lightning speed. His short, dark hair sticks up like maybe he got distracted in the middle of brushing it or just took off a hat. “Sound and lights. Lights and sound. Whatever combo works for you, that’s me.”

            “I’m stage management,” Adela adds smoothly, “There’s supposed to be an acting intern but he’s not here yet…”

            Farid rolls his eyes extravagantly, “Tony-the-Tonys-were-actually-named-after-me-Rossi. Yeah, we were in undergrad together. Little diva’s probably late on purpose.”

            “He’s not going to last long with that attitude,” Adela points out, one brow rising skeptically.

            Farid shrugs, “He typically does it once to test people. If he gets shut down the first time he stops. If he doesn’t it gets worse. He’s like a little kid.”

            Alyssa nods, “There were people like that in my program.”

            Adela shakes her head; “He must be really something if he still got a spot here.”

            Farid shrugs again, “I mean, he’s good. Just kind of a dick about it.”

            A new voice cuts into their conversation, Alyssa turns to see coffee shop guy coming through the door, on his cell phone again, a messenger bag over one shoulder, a bundle of papers under an elbow and a hand wrapped around the travel mug. He looks like a pratfall waiting to happen; yet there’s a kind of vicious grace to his movements, like he’s daring gravity to pick a fight with him. “I don’t – I can’t help with this right now, I have work, I have interns. Just. Okay, Pidge, just…call Shiro if you have a problem. Or better yet, the fire department. Call the fire department. Just don’t actually burn down the house. Okay? Bye.” He hangs up, pauses, realizes he doesn’t actually have anywhere to put the phone and finally just keeps walking holding it like that was what he planned all along.

            “You, you’re the interns? I’m Keith Kogane, I stage manage here. Aren’t there supposed to four of you?”

            Right on time a voice sounds from the doorway, “I’m here! Hello everyone, I’m Tony Rossi – ”

            “And you’re late.” Somehow Kogane’s voice, which Alyssa wouldn’t have classified as ‘warm’ at first, plummets several degrees in the space of seconds, “Don’t let it happen again.”

            Rossi looks suitably intimidated. Adela’s grinning like a shark that’s just spotted another shark and is very excited to swim around scaring the rest of the ocean together. Farid is humming to himself, looking like he’s not really paying attention, but when Alyssa catches his eye he winks like this is exactly what he wanted to see today.

            Kogane gives them all an assessing look and Alyssa resists the urge to check her posture or fiddle with her hair. “Okay. Time for the tour,” he says after a moment, and walks off, apparently expecting them to follow him.

            Alyssa feels a lot like she’s just been sent to Hogwarts and left to the tender mercies of Professor McGonagall without a helpful Hagrid to explain what the fuck is going on.

…

            Here’s the thing about being an intern. You technically have a ‘specialty’ – Alyssa’s being costuming – but you’re actually expected to do everything, you know, on the side. Set load-in, lighting hang and focus, tech week? The interns are there.

            And of course the first tech week of the season everyone backstage gets the same damn headcold. Even Kogane is sniffling through calling the show, and Alyssa thought he was some kind of robot. Adela has been doing the rounds with DayQuil and Tylenol but the meds really just take the edge off the aches and general stuffiness. The only person not actively dying is Tony, the bastard. He seems to glow with obnoxious good health even as Alyssa, Farid and Adela sneeze and sniffle into their sleeves.

            The run is stopped for what feels like the ten-millionth time in a row when Tony flings his arm above his head and his sleeve, already strained, actually detaches. Alyssa hauls herself to her feet and goes to retrieve the jacket and see what temporary fix she can cook up.

            She’s onstage, half-listening to Tony ramble about how “And I’m doing the blocking, going right along and suddenly RIP, there goes my sleeve, haha!” when she spots something out of the corner of her eye. Someone she doesn’t recognize just entered the theatre. He’s tall and lean, probably late twenties. It’s hard to make out any distinguishing features other than general body type in the dimness. Pausing at the bottom level of the audience he gives a little wave to the tech tables where the light and sound boards are temporarily set up and Kogane and company are encamped. And to Alyssa’s surprise, Kogane looks up from his script and seems to pause, shaking his head slightly before making a small ‘come here’ gesture.

            The stranger seems to brighten at this, bounding up the steps until he’s on the riser just below the tech table. He leans up and places a thermos and a paper bag on the table in front of Kogane. They seem to have a brief conversation, punctuated by Kogane giving the stranger a gentle shove and the stranger rocking backward and then forward, ending even closer to the grouchy stage manager. He reaches up and pushes Kogane’s bangs out of his face in classic mom-checking-for-a-temperature fashion.

            Alyssa’s jaw might be on the ground by this point. No one touches Keith Kogane. Ever. Kogane is like a feral cat – you respect it, you maybe feed it, but you never, ever touch it.

            He shakes off the hand, but it’s gentle, like the shove earlier. Playful. Alyssa didn’t think he knew how to be playful. Sure, he had his moments – a dry comment here, at little bit of subtle sarcasm there. He’s funny sometimes, but when Alyssa thinks ‘playful’ she thinks Farid spastically dancing to the _Mamma Mia_ soundtrack while sorting gels and Adela changing all his playlists’ names on his phone while his back is turned. Not…Kogane.

            And then the stranger does the unimaginable. _He kisses Kogane on the cheek and then leaves like that’s totally normal behavior._

            “Whoa. So Kogane’s boyfriend is real,” Tony says behind her and Alyssa resists the urge to kick him, suddenly feeling protective of this new, sweeter version of Kogane they just witnessed.

            “Shut up, Tony,” she says instead, because kicking actors is kind of frowned upon.

…

            “So what’d the guy bring Kogane?” Alyssa asks Farid at the end of the day, when they’re gathering their stuff in the green room. Farid, the lucky bastard, is sound board operator and gets to sit at the tech table, where apparently everything exciting happens.

            Farid shrugs, “Just a thermos of tea and some food. Kogane’s sick too, you know. I guess that was his boyfriend or something.”

            “Sickeningly cute,” Adela opines with a glint in her eye.

            Farid mock-gasped dramatically, “You evil mistress of puns, you _know_ something! Spill!”

            “I can’t believe you still say ‘spill’,” Alyssa mutters at him.

            “I can’t believe you _don’t_ ,” he huffs and Adela laughs.

            “I can’t believe you don’t know.”

            “Now you’re just bragging,” Farid huffs.

            “Yep,” Adela agrees easily, “But that was Lance. He and Keith have been together for…uh…two years I think. Seriously, how do you guys not know about this?”

            “I think the real question is how do you get away with calling him ‘Keith’?” Farid said.

            “Uh, it’s his name,” Adela is smiling a crooked little disbelieving smile at him and he shrugs broadly.

            “Yeah, but there are people you call by their first name and there are people you don’t.”

            Alyssa hums agreement as they head toward the lobby. She can’t imagine calling him anything other than ‘Kogane’. She’s called plenty of authority figures by their first names; her professors in her undergrad theatre program had all gone by their first names with the students. Just there was something about Kogane that didn’t really invite that level of friendliness. Maybe it was just her.

            “Well I think it’s nice his boyfriend brought him tea and something to eat,” she says, punctuating the sentence with a pathetic sneeze/cough, “I wish someone brought me tea.”

            “I wish someone brought me food,” Farid concurs.

            “I wish I didn’t have a cold.” Adela says dryly, getting to the heart of the problem as she opens the door for both of them.

            They laugh in congested agreement.

…

**To: Adela**

Bored.

Bored and sick.

Wardrobe’s got nothing to do.

What’s going on with you guys?

**To: Alyssa**

So Keith’s really sick today

Like, def has a fever

Coughing up a lung

Can barely talk sick

**To: Adela**

I know

Wardrobe isn’t much better

Those quick changes might not be so quick

**To: Alyssa**

Yeah, well, Keith’s really sick, right?

And his bf calls him all

‘why aren’t you at home, getting rest/better?’

And he’s like

‘the theatre needs me’

And the bf LITERALLY SAYS

‘Keith Kogane, you are the human equivalent

of a burnt toaster strudel right now

go home and rest, you stale eggo waffle’

now they’re just bickering

UPDATE

Keith LITERALLY SAID

‘so sorry, catastrophic power failure, bye’

But in the hoarsest voice ever

He sounds like death

He turned off his phone because it kept ringing

He was smirking but then he had to sneeze

This is hilarious

**To: Adela**

omg, Farid videoed it

it’s on snapchat now

**To: Alyssa**

Yessss

Love my job

…

            The cast party barely happens, everyone is too tired and sniffly to put much energy into anything. Plus you can’t get drunk and take NyQuil and frankly, the cold medicine is a little more appealing. The cast, mostly healthy through some sort of strange actor witchcraft, goes off to toast opening night, leaving the tech crew largely in contaminated peace back at the theatre.

            Alyssa is trudging through the lobby, her car, her apartment, and at least twelve hours of sleep the only things on her mind when she hears voices. She pauses, attention caught, and spots, across the lobby, Keith Kogane, and the other guy, the one who must be Lance. They’re both wearing jackets, as if Kogane too was on his way out the door. Lance must have been waiting for him, because he stands when he spots his boyfriend and walks over to him.

            “How you doing?”

            And Kogane surprises Alyssa by just tipping forward and resting his forehead on Lance’s shoulder. Lance, apparently unfazed by this, reaches up and runs a hand over the back of his head, stroking his hair.

            “Dead. I’m dead,” Kogane grumbles and Lance chuckles.

            “You’re sick as fuck, but you’re not dead yet. Although you did ignore a perfectly good Friends reference right there.”

            “Wasn’t worth it.”

            “Rude.” They stay there for another moment and Alyssa is trying very hard to inch toward the door without disturbing them or letting them know that she’s here. It feels wrong, witnessing this private moment with the two of them.

            “Come on, babe,” Lance breaks the silence, dropping a casual kiss to the back of Kogane’s head, “Let’s go home.”

            Kogane grumbles incoherently and refuses to move. Alyssa takes the opportunity to slip out the door.

            Adela is right, they’re really stupid cute.


	2. I Howled at the Moon With Friends (then the sun came crashing in)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GROUP CHAT  
> Alyssa: So you know the theatre’s secret snowflake thing?  
> Lord of the Dance (Farid): The holiday party gift exchange?  
> Alyssa: No the other thing we’re calling ‘secret snowflake’  
> Alyssa: YES THE HOLIDAY PARTY GIFT EXCHANGE  
> Lord of the Dance (Farid): soooooo…who’d you get?  
> Alyssa: I got Kogane. I didn’t even know he participated in the stupid gift exchange! What the fuck am I supposed to get my BOSS? 
> 
> Being an intern is hard. (the continuing adventures of Adela, Alyssa, and Farid)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT! SERIOUSLY. THANK YOU. 
> 
> The interns are baaaack! I sat down to write tonight and I was like "hmmm, I could work on that super angsty fic I have in the works about Keith's dad...or I could write seasonal fluffy crack about the interns...." GUESS WHAT IMPULSE WON. I love these OCs too much. Also, seasonal fluff. Even though it's not the season anymore. 
> 
> So the Secret Snowflake/Santa gift exchange modeled here is based on what we do at my work, where everyone's names get randomly matched with someone else. You buy a gift (under $20) for the person assigned to you and whoever got your name gets you an under-$20 gift. And then you open your gifts at the holiday party and there's food and it's very fun. The way we do it you never find out your gifter's name unless they choose to tell you which personally I really like.

**I Howled at the Moon With Friends (then the sun came crashing in)**

**GROUP CHAT**

**Alyssa:** So you know the theatre’s secret snowflake thing?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** The holiday party gift exchange?

**Alyssa:** No the other thing we’re calling ‘secret snowflake’

**Alyssa:** YES THE HOLIDAY PARTY GIFT EXCHANGE

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Hey, you could have some weird snow-themed thing on the side. No judgment.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** soooooo…who’d you get?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** I know who got me.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Adela. It’s Adela.

**Alyssa:** I know, dude. The day after names were drawn she showed up at the dimmer room and demanded to know what you wanted.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** I love the holidays.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** heeeeeeeyyy, you didn’t answer the question. Who’d you get?

**Alyssa:** I got Kogane. I didn’t even know he participated in the stupid gift exchange! What the fuck am I supposed to get my BOSS?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Idk, dude. You’re on your own. I’m giving everyone I know old programs from this season signed by me with my name circled really obviously on the crew list. It’s cheap and if I ever get famous they can sell it for lots of money. Double win.

**Alyssa:** Your family doesn’t even celebrate Christmas.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** heeeeeey, Alyssa, guess what you’re getting for the holidays….

**Alyssa:** You suck. And are not helpful at all.

**Adela:** OKAY, NERDS, REMEMBER HOW THIS IS A GROUP TEXT?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** oh, hey, Adela. How do you feel about changing your screen name to ‘Hello From the Other Side’?

**Adela:** GROUP TEXT. AS IN, ALL OF THESE TEXTS ARE SHOWING UP ON MY SCREEN. GUESS WHERE I AM RIGHT NOW?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Is this like a game show? Can I phone a friend?

**Alyssa:** Better not phone me.

**Adela:** KEITH’S OFFICE. I AM IN KEITH’S OFFICE. WHERE MY DESK IS. WHERE I WORK. WITH KEITH. OUR BOSS.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** How about a lifeline? Is this one of those game shows where I get a lifeline?  
**Alyssa:** You can get a shovel, to keep digging that hole.

**Adela:** SWITCH TO A PRIVATE CONVERSATION IF YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP TEXTING, HE’S STARING AT ME WITH ONE EYEBROW RAISED REALLY SUSPICIOUSLY.

**Adela:** I’m pretty sure he’s in a bad mood. His eye’s been twitching off and on all day. And I think he’s going to break that pencil he’s holding.

**Alyssa:** Oh shit, you don’t think he and Lance are fighting; do you?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Noooo, they’re basically our parents! They can’t fight! I don’t want to go live with grandma!

**Adela:** Calm the fuck down, Farid.

**Alyssa:** Wait, who’s grandma in this hypothetical family?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** idk, I don’t want to find out.

**Adela:** Whatever, he seems tense. So maybe stop texting the group-chat so much? Every time my phone buzzes his face does this weird spastic thing.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Care to try to video it for the Grumpy Cat Keith Snapchat?

**Adela:** FARID, NO.

**Alyssa:** FARID, NO.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Fine, limit my art. I shall rise above you doubters.

…

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Shiro

I think the interns are up to something

Adela’s phone keeps buzzing

I think I saw my name

**To: Keith**

I’m sure you’ll survive whatever it is

They’re already a little afraid of you

You should be nicer to them

Give them the benefit of the doubt

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Now you sound like Lance

**To: Keith**

About that

You’re in a committed, quasi-normal

…ish

relationship

Why do I still hear about all your paranoid

…paranoia?

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Eloquent

You’re still the most sensible person I know

**To: Keith**

You know Hunk

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Hunk is not as sensible as he seems

You know what Hunk did?

He saw ONE ANT in his kitchen

AND MOVED ALL HIS AND PIDGE’S FOOD

OVER TO LANCE AND I’S

SO HE COULD SPRAY FOR ANTS

ONE ANT

ALL THAT FOOD

MOVED

INTO MY FRIDGE

**To: Keith**

Wow

Your life

So difficult

So hard

So many trials and tribulations

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

You know what we did

In retaliation for this blatant invasion?

(Lance’s words, not mine)

**To: Keith**

Talked about boundaries like reasonable adults?

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

In hindsight that would have been much more effective

**To: Keith**

Oh god

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

…we drank all their soda…

…and energy drinks…

…I haven’t slept for like…

36 hours

**To: Keith**

Is your face twitching?

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

…a little

**To: Keith**

WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?  
WHAT DID I DO WRONG?  
SHOULD I HAVE PICKED UP A BOOK ON PARENTING?

PROBABLY!

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

I’m sorry

Please stop quoting Big Hero 6 at me

**To: Keith**

I AM LEAVING THIS CONVERSATION

GOOD DAY TO YOU

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Shiro

I think Adela has noticed the face-twitch

Shiro

Shiro

Shiro

What do I do?  
Shiro.   
Ugh.

You suck.

…

**To: Lance**

So drinking all of Hunk and Pidge’s soda…

Was a mistake

**To: KEEEEEITH**

I agree

**To: Lance**

Also, the interns are up to something

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Nah, that’s just the caffeine/sugar

Makes you paranoid

The kids have looked super shifty all day

Pretty sure it’s just the soda

And the energy drinks

Affecting my brain

We’re kind of dumb

Why are we like this?

**To: Lance**

I think we’re bad influences

On each other

**To: KEEEEEITH**

If you break up with me via text…

I’m divorcing your ass

**To: Lance**

What?  
We’re not married

Also, no, don’t leave me

**To: KEEEEEITH**

You’re never getting rid of me

Love you, babe

<3

**To: Lance**

I know

We can self-destruct together

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Awww

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Adela:** Oh my god, I just met The Brother

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** WHAT

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

**Adela:** So you know how Klance had me and Alyssa over for Orphan Thanksgiving?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** WHICH I MISSED. Curse my happy middle-class suburban family.

**Alyssa:** Calm down, Farid. We’re not actually orphans. We just couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving. Not all of us live in Jersey.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Excuse you; ***** I* do not live in Jersey. I used to, but I escaped.

**Adela:** Yeah, to the glamorous upstate area.

**Adela:** Whatever, off-topic. So you know how Klance had me and ‘Lyssa over and we were like ‘why are you guys inviting random interns over to your house instead of having a nice time with your real families?’ and it turned out Lance’s moms were doing Thanksgiving at his sister’s farm in Oregon cuz she just had a baby or something and Keith’s brother was out of town or something and he seemed really disappointed about it so Lance regaled us with stories about the mysterious Brother?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** YES, he says a century later. GET TO THE POINT.

**Adela:** THE BROTHER JUST SHOWED UP AT THE OFFICE

**Alyssa:** I’m with Farid, pics or it didn’t happen.

**Adela:** I HAVE VIDEO

_…loading video file…_

            _“Keith.”_

_“Shiro, what the fuck.”_

_“Keith.”_

_“Are you wearing UFO-print scrubs?”_

_“Keith, you’re going to crash really hard soon. I brought you some food because considering how much caffeine you’ve had in the past twelve hours you probably haven’t eaten anything.”_

_“Haven’t been hungry. Oh my god, those are tiny UFOs with little green men all over your scrubs.”_

_“That would be the caffeine at work. Caffeine dulls hunger responses, it’s why it’s included in a lot of diet bars.”_

_“Your scrubs are giving me traumatic flashbacks to my childhood, Shiro.”_

_“Don’t be a baby. Eat your damn Happy Meal.”_

_“…you got me a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Like, an actual child-sized hamburger.”_

_“And a toy. And an extra order of fries to go with the apple slices. I would have gone for Subway or something with actual vegetables, but this was more convenient, I only get a thirty-minute break.”_

_“This is weirdly nice, Shiro. I’m actually having an emotion right now.”_

_“Good to know. Now eat your food and make fewer incredibly stupid decisions from now on, okay? Oh, you must be the intern. Adela, right?”_

END VIDEO

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** What happened to the video at the end?  
**Adela:** I dropped my phone

**Adela:** he’s super chill

**Adela:** Still felt kind of weird about him knowing I was videoing him.

**Alyssa:** Um, anyone else wondering what the fuck Keith did that had his brother bringing him food?  
**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** And can I do it too, because I want someone to bring me McDonald’s.

**Adela:** I asked. Apparently he and Lance drank like all of their neighbors’ soda and energy drinks in one night to prove a point? Idk. Their lives are weird.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** if by weird you mean TOTALLY AWESOME.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Klance gives me faith that I can be a real adult someday.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Although Kogane alone is still totally scary and I really don’t get how he’s so cool when he’s with his bf but basically Grumpy Cat McMurderface when he’s around us.

**Adela:** He’s actually really nice. Just…intimidating.

**Alyssa:** He’s not that bad.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Heeeey, ‘Lyssa….you should totally ask Lance what to get Keith for the gift exchange thing.

**Alyssa:** That’s…actually not a bad idea. Adela, can you get his number? From, like, records or something?  
**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Or steal Kogane’s phone.

**Alyssa:** DON’T STEAL KOGANE’S PHONE

**Adela:** I really don’t get how you can’t bring yourselves to call him Keith. But I’ll see what I can do, okay?  
**Alyssa:** THANK YOU

**Adela:** I make no promises.

…

**GROUP TEXT**

**Adela:** So Shiro wasn’t kidding about the caffeine/sugar crash. Keith’s asleep at his desk, with his eyes open, which is super creepy, btw. I borrowed his phone and got Lance’s number. You’re welcome.

**Alyssa:** thankyouthankyouthankyou

**Adela:** Use this wisely.

**Alyssa:** yes, okay, thank you

…

**To: Lance McClain-Sanchez**

Hi, this is Alyssa, the intern

From the theatre

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

Hi Alyssa-the-intern

This is Lance

What’s up?

**To: Lance McClain-Sanchez**

So the theatre does this gift exchange

At the holiday party

Every year

And it’s basically Secret Santa

But we call it Secret Snowflake

Because not everyone celebrates Christmas

Anyway, we all get randomly assigned someone

To get a gift for

And someone else gets our name

And I got randomly assigned Kogane

I mean Keith

You know what, I’m just gonna call him Kogane

You know who I’m talking about

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

Wow, and all these years

I thought his last name was Smith

I’m kidding!  
I’m kidding!

I know who you’re talking about

**To: Lance McClain-Sanchez**

Oh thank god.

So can you help me?

I really don’t know what he likes.

Other than yelling at incompetent people

And he punched a coffee maker once

It wasn’t working

Weirdly, it worked after he punched it.

He seemed to like that.

The punching and the coffee maker working.

Anyway.

There’s a $20 limit

What do I get him?

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

Wow. Okay.

Now I know what happened to his hand last week.

Shiro owes me 20 bucks.

And I really can’t help you.

I’m kind of struggling with the Christmas gift thing

He’s hard to gift to

Ummm…

He likes weird Shakespeare shit

And don’t give him ANYTHING with aliens on it

It’s a thing

Coffee? He likes coffee?

Hope that helps.

**To: Lance McClain-Sanchez**

Better than nothing

Thanks

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

No problem

Got to go

Kids trying to eat glue

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Alyssa:** Apparently Keith likes ‘weird Shakespeare shit’ and hates anything alien-related. Oh and coffee. Apparently coffee’s okay.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** So basically everything we already knew.

**Alyssa:** pretty much.

…

**To: Lance**

I fell asleep at work

I am never drinking that much soda and red bull again

**To: KEEEEEITH**

So apparently one of your interns got you

For the gift exchange

Did you know you’re impossible to gift for?

**To: Lance**

I’m aware.

And yeah, I got stuck with one of the interns too

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Wait, to get a gift for?

This is hilarious

Who is it????

**To: Lance**

The quiet one that’s kind of scared of me

Alyssa

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Lololololol

**To: Lance**

I don’t think that’s how ‘lol’ works

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Shut up, I’m laughing at beautiful irony

As in, you’re beautiful

And the situation’s ironic

**To: Lance**

Did you just turn mocking me…

Into hitting on me?

**To: KEEEEEEITH**

Is it working?

**To: Lance**

You do realize I’m in love with you, right?

We’re in a relationship.

You don’t need to ‘pick me up’

You’ve already got me.

It’s a given.

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Be still my heart

Is Keith Kogane being romantic?

I may swoon.

**To: Lance**

I regret everything

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Liar

Anyway, one of your interns texted me

Trying to figure out what to give you

So.

Sorry if your gift exchange gift sucks

I tried

**To: Lance**

You do realize I only participate in this

Because the Artistic Director makes me?

I really don’t care.

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Pretend to care

This year

For our children’s sake

**To: Lance**

For the last time

The interns are not our children

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Lies,

I’ve adopted them.

**To: Lance**

I give up.

Are you bringing pizza home for dinner?

**To: KEEEEEITH**

It’s like you read my mind

See you at home

<3

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Adela:** what did you end up getting Keith for the gift exchange?

**Alyssa:** A rubber band gun and a deck of Shakespearean insult cards

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Oh great, he can shoot us AND insult us more eloquently.

**Adela:** I think he’ll really like it.

**Alyssa:** I hope so.

…

**To: Keith**

So what did you end up getting at the gift exchange?

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

Rubber band shooter gun thing

Watch your back

You’ve been warned

And a deck of Shakespearean insult cards.

**To: Keith**

So I see your Secret Santa is enabling your bad habits

**To: Big Brother is Watching You**

I have a rubber band with your name on it

And a few choice Elizabethan phrases for you

To go with it

**To: Keith**

Glad you’re having fun

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** So I think Alyssa won the gift exchange

**Adela:** Definitely

**Alyssa:** It’s pretty cool, I’ll admit.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Pretty cool?

**Adela:** she’ll admit?  
**Alyssa:** Okay, fuck yeah; I won the gift exchange.

**Adela:** Totally.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Go girl.

…

            “That was nice, what you made for Alyssa for your Secret Snowflake thing,” Lance observes as they walk back to Keith’s car, a little warm and tipsy from Christmas party eggnog. Keith is completely sober; he has to drive them home, after all.

            “Can we just call it a ‘gift exchange’, it sounds less kindergarten that way,” Keith bumps his shoulder against Lance’s and is rewarded with an armful of snuggly boyfriend as Lance cuddles against his side. Keith throws an arm around Lance and lets his boyfriend’s head rest against his shoulder. Snow spirals down around them and it feels like a Christmas-card kind of night.

            “Yeah, but I think the whole ‘secret snowflake’ thing is kind of cute,” Lance chuckles, “But yeah, what you made for Alyssa, that was really nice.”

            Keith huffs, “I was out of ideas, it was easy…”

            “Was not,” Lance pokes his face, but gently, teasing, “You had to get the posters and programs an then all those signatures and then find a frame that would fit all of them. That’s a lot of effort, Keithy-Keith. I’ve told you, you’re a secret softie. You’re better at the people thing than you think.”

            “Keithy-Keith?” he raises an eyebrow doubtfully.

            “It’s cute.”

            “Try again when you’re sober.”

            “Will do.”

            Keith sighs, he did put a lot of effort into that gift. More than he’d like to admit. But he’d been out of ideas and there was a box of old programs and posters just sitting there in his office. It hadn’t been hard to find the programs and posters from the shows Alyssa had worked with them so far. And then he’d tracked down all the company members listed and gotten their signatures (that hadn’t been too bad, he even got them to start passing them amongst themselves so he hadn’t even needed to distribute anything). And then he’d found a frame that would fit everything, artfully layered together so every signature was visible, and put it all together. It was cheap, really, and kind of corny. But Alyssa had actually teared up at it, so it must have meant something to her.

            (Keith knew it had to mean something to her – he still has shoeboxes full of old programs and posters dating as far back as high school, he hoards them all, he doesn’t forget a single show, he took a chance and guessed that maybe in this one thing he wasn’t so different from other people, at least other theatre people.)

            Lance is smiling at him like he did something good, something right, and he’s so damn beautiful and good Keith feels something warm bloom in his chest at the sight of him.

            “You did good, Keith.”

            “Thanks, Lance.”

            They walk back to the car together.

 

            Keith’s totally going to use his new rubber band shooter on Shiro the next time his brother visits.  


	3. I’m Never Gonna Look Back (never gonna give it up)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How did you know what day my birthday was?”   
> “I have access to all your employee paperwork.”   
> “That’s not weird at all.”   
> “Nope.” 
> 
> Four birthdays at the theatre - Adela, Farid, Alyssa, and Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS - YOU'RE ALL SO LOVELY.
> 
> Yet again, the urge to write intern fluff and Actual Nice Person Keith won over the need to write angst (I promise I do have some of the Keith's dad fic written...but I also have a lot of ideas for lighter fics for this series too, so those might make an appearance before it does)
> 
> Also, I actually don't know what Keith's canon birthday is. I know there's a canon birthday for Hunk now, but when I started this series I couldn't find one for Keith so I just went with Winter Solstice because frankly, that seems about accurate for him. (I also low-key headcanon Lance's birthday is the summer solstice because I'm that cliche...) Even if they do release a canon Keith-birthday I'm sticking with December 21st in this series for internal consistency reasons.

**I’m Never Gonna Look Back (never gonna give it up)**

**Adela**

            “Make way for the birthday girl! Make way! Maaaake way!”

            “Farid!” Adela whips around to glare at her friend, brandishing her latte menacingly in his face, “Quit. It.”

            “I’m just pumped it’s your birthday, birthday girl.”

            “No, you’re hoping people will sing at me. You got the staff of _Starbucks_ to _serenade_ me this morning.”

            “Yeah, you’re lucky you’re not dead,” Alyssa tells him from the lobby door as she wrestles her way into the building, arms loaded down with reference books and fabric swatches, her own Frappuccino balanced precariously atop the pile, “Move your butt Farid, you’re blocking the door.”

            “I can’t believe you don’t want to make a big deal about your birthday!” Farid whines at Adela as he throws himself out of Alyssa’s way, “It’s a _birthday_ , it’s literally a day all about you!”

            Adela sighs, “I like my birthdays low-key and _non-musical._ ”

            Of course this is the exact moment Keith strides into the lobby, catches sight of all of them and says, tone completely flat, “Good news, the sheet music is in for the musical. Adela, we need to meet with the music director, auditions are tomorrow and she apparently has _ideas_ about _process_.”

            Adela makes a sound that would go better with squeaky hinges or a very sad rubber duck and glares at Farid. “You caused this,” she says flatly, “I don’t know how, but you did.”

            Farid, undeterred, looks over at Keith, “Hey, guess what, it’s Adela’s birthday today!”

            Keith looks completely unimpressed, “Hurrah,” he says dryly.

            “See? Keith gets it,” Adela jabs Farid in the side, making him dance away from her sharp elbows.

            “How are you two so cold and dead inside?” Farid whines, hopping backward, out of Adela’s reach, forcing Alyssa to dodge his flailing hands.

            “We’re stage managers, we only have feelings at regularly scheduled intervals,” Keith explains, not even contesting the ‘dead inside’ accusation.

            “What he said,” Adela shrugs, “This is the right sheet music, right? It’s not the weird tour company version of the show we got last time?”

            “I haven’t looked at it yet, but hopefully it’s not misprinted or missing anything.”

            “Personally, I liked the extra number the tour company added,” Farid observes, “It was catchy.”

            “Yeah, but the tour version of the show cut three of the original songs. Kind of a problem,” Alyssa points out as she makes her way toward the costume studio.

            “Eh, who needs those?”

            “People who have the soundtrack memorized and will definitely notice?” Keith says dryly.

            “Nerds.”

            “Nerds who pay my salary, giving me the dubious honor of signing off on your stipends. Get to work,” Keith says flatly.

…

            Adela takes refuge in talking about work as she follows Keith back to their shared office. Well, really his office that she happens to have a desk in. She loves her friends. Really, she’d grown far more attached to her fellow interns far more quickly than she ever expected. And it really does make her feel…special, that they remembered her birthday. They’d taken her out for breakfast and birthday coffee before work and Farid had gotten both the staff of the diner _and_ the Starbucks people to sing at her. There was even a little candle stuck in her stack of pancakes. And she’d woken up to a voicemail from her mom and her little sister singing happy birthday from across the world and her dad sent her a birthday text with a promise to call tonight and it’s great, it’s really great, just…she’s tired of being the center of attention. She’s in the business of being behind the scenes and she likes it that way. All this fuss and bother over her birthday is really, really sweet but it’s 9am and she’s already tired.

            They get to the office and Keith’s shouldering open the door still talking out the logistics of tomorrow’s auditions and she almost doesn’t notice the cupcake sitting on her desk – doesn’t see it until she’s sinking into her chair. It’s jarring, a cute little marbled chocolate/vanilla cupcake topped off with a swirl of seafoam green frosting just sitting in the middle of her desk like it’s always been there.

            “When did this get here?” she actually interrupts Keith to ask.

            He blinks at her faux-innocently from beside the filing cabinet, “What?”

            She wordlessly holds up the cupcake. Underneath is a card with a cartoon robot drawn on it wishing her a happy birthday. Inside are birthday greetings from…

            “You and Lance made me a birthday card?” she asks, surprised and oddly touched.

            Keith clears his throat awkwardly, “Lance insisted. He seems to think birthdays are important.” He shrugs, like he’s not sure where his significant other could get such a strange notion.

            Adela’s face hurts; she realizes she’s smiling, “That’s really nice of you guys.”

            “Lance made the cupcake.”

            “So if it sucks….?”

            “Blame him. Although, let’s face it, if I made it, it definitely would have sucked. Frankly, if I made it, it would have come from a gas station and probably be wrapped in Hostess packaging.”

            “Seems legit,” she nods, then clears her throat just as awkwardly as Keith had minutes ago, “Tell him thank you for me. This was…really nice of you guys. How did you know what day my birthday was?”

            “I have access to all your employee paperwork.”

            “That’s not weird at all.”

            “Nope.”

            “But seriously…thank you. My mom’s doing a show in London right now – she’s an opera singer. And my dad’s in California...anyway, I’m not going to see my family for this birthday, that’s why Farid’s being all weird, he thinks he needs to make up for it or something. I just…I appreciate the gesture, I guess.”

            Keith looks at her and she really doesn’t get why Farid’s still so intimidated by him or why Alyssa’s still a little nervous around him. Keith Kogane is, at his core, a very kind man. “You’re welcome,” he nods, “Now, auditions. I’m going to be in the room with the director so you’re running the table out front.”

            “What, regularly scheduled emotion over?” she jokes.

            “Yes,” he says casually, “We’re expecting a bit of a bigger turnout than usual just because musicals are a bit of a draw…”

            And they go back to work.

…

**Farid**

            “Farid, how many times can you listen to the same song over and over again?” Alyssa asks, pausing by the dimmer room where he’s cutting gels and sliding them into frames, humming along to Allstar Weekend’s ‘Not Your Birthday’.

            “Basically until it’s no longer my birthday and I can stop doing this – ” he holds up a hand and starts singing along to the chorus loudly and a little off-key “ _Party like it's not, party like it's not - Like it's not your birthday - Party like it's not, party like it's not - Oh o oh_ – EXCEPT IT’S TOTALLY MY BIRTHDAY!” He grins at her and she laughs.

            “Well as long as you have a plan.” She leans in the doorway, “So are you going home to Jersey for a birthday dinner with your family?”

            He shrugs, “We’re doing the whole birthday thing this weekend. My parents are your basic suburban power couple, Mom’s a paralegal, Dad’s an accountant. Regular nine-to-fivers. We tend to keep big family celebrations to the weekends.”

            “Still, it’s nice that you guys are doing something,” Alyssa smiles.

            “Yeah, I’m super pumped!”

            She grins, “Well, I’ll leave you to your song. Happy Birthday, dude.”

            “Thanks for the birthday breakfast this morning, Lyss! I’m liking this tradition…hey, when’s your birthday?”

            “You do realize you can get pancakes literally whenever. The diner’s twenty-four hours.”

            “Yeah…but there’s a little something extra to _birthday_ pancakes.”

            “I think it’s the candle and rainbow sprinkles. And the awkward singing.”

            “That might be it, fair Alyssa,” he says in a weird attempt at a courtly accent, “That might be it.”

           She rolls her eyes and walks away to the sound of him belting out the chorus to ‘Not Your Birthday’ again.

…

            Farid will freely admit that he screams like a small child when he turns around to see Kogane lurking in the doorway of the dimmer room. Well, not so much ‘lurking’ as standing there like a normal human being, hand raised to knock on the open door when Farid turns around and sees him but…the point still stands. The man is far too stealthy for his own good.

            “Are you done?” Kogane asks when Farid gets his heartrate under control and stops shrieking.

            “Are you done being terrifying? Trick question, answer’s no, you never stop being terrifying.”

            Kogane blinks and stares at him like the answers to the New York Times crossword are written on the inside of Farid’s skull and Kogane just developed X-ray vision. “Why are you all so freaked out by me?” he asks, in the exact same tone Adela used to say “why are you like this?” when Farid tossed confetti in her face when she knocked on his door to pick him up for work this morning. (They carpool – or at least they used to, he needs to check in and see if she’s forgiven him for the confetti yet.)

            Farid shrugs, he doesn’t have a good answer for that one.

            Keith shrugs and apparently decides to just let it go. “Whatever. It’s January.”

            “Yeah, I know. It’s my birthday.”

            “Yes.” Kogane stares at him some more and sighs, “According to Lance you and your fellow interns are now ‘our children’ and it’s ‘actually despicable’ that we haven’t had all of you over to our house for dinner yet.”

            Farid isn’t sure how to react to this. Although it’s honestly pretty accurate – Lance is basically their collective mom-friend and Kogane isn’t so much their dad-friend as their actual Theatre Dad whose approval they all desperately crave.

            “So, you and the other interns are invited over for dinner tonight. Happy birthday.”

            “Even Tony?” Farid asks, skeptical.

            Kogane shrugs, “He said no. Apparently he has a date. And he’s more afraid of me than you are.”

            Tony actually has a good reason to be afraid of Kogane. The boy has punctuality issues and Kogane’s internal clock is terrifyingly accurate. Tony been ‘just barely on time’ so many times Farid’s lost count. He actually thinks Adela has started giving Tony a call time five minutes earlier than everyone else.

            “Thanks…” well he can’t call Kogane ‘dude’, “…sir.”

            Kogane’s face actually convulses at that, “Did you just call me sir?”

            “Trust me, it was weird for me too.”

            “Please never do that again.”

            “Sure thing.”

            Kogane shakes his head and he’s smiling a little, it softens his face considerably. Farid’s not nearly as intimidated by him as he used to be, honestly. Kogane’s a good guy.

            “Uh, thanks. For having all of us over for dinner, that’s really nice of you guys.”

            Kogane’s smile grows a tiny bit, “Lance insisted.”

            “Sure.” According to Adela, that’s Kogane’s go-to excuse for whenever he does anything nice that can remotely be pinned on his better half. Lance insisted.

            Kogane nods, “See you all later then,” and walks off like this is totally normal.

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** So apparently the Theatre Dads are having us over for dinner??? Because it’s my birthday and Lance wants to have us all over at once or something???? Also, btw, Lance says we’re their children.

**Adela:** I know

**Alyssa:** I know

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** How did you know before me???

**Adela:** Lay off the question marks; I share an office with the guy, he literally looked up from his phone ten minutes ago and said “remind me never to tell Lance anything ever again” and then a minute later it was “he wants to have all of you over for dinner because he ‘wants all his children in one place for once’ and ‘birthdays should be celebrated’”

**Alyssa:** That’s actually really sweet???  
**Adela:** Oh god, more question marks.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** !!! Alyssa - ??????  
**Alyssa:**????????????????

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):**??????????????????????????????

**Adela:** STOP THE MADNESS – NO MORE QUESTION MARKS

**Alyssa:** that sounds like a media slogan…not sure for what…but it could def work for something

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** We’re going, right? To dinner?

**Alyssa:** HELL YES

**Adela:** Yes.

**Alyssa:** Their neighbor is the best improvisational cook I’ve ever seen, it’s actually a thing of beauty. And I want to play with their kittens.

**Adela:** Yeah, I’m in it for the kittens.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Kittens?!?!?! I’M IN.

…

**To: KEEEEEITH**

THE KIDS ARE COMING TO DINNER

RIGHT?

**To: Lance**

Calm down

.

.

.

Yes

**To: KEEEEEITH**

I’m really excited

**To: Lance**

I noticed

Why?

**To: KEEEEEITH**

I like the kids

They’re fun!

And everyone deserves a nice dinner on their b-day

Birthdays are special

**To: Lance**

You’re so weird

**To: KEEEEEITH**

But you love it~

**To: Lance**

Yes.

This is really nice of you

Just so you know

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Oh I do

Know, that is

Unlike SOMEONE

I’m not in denial,

I own being a Nice Person

**To: Lance**

No comment.

…

**Alyssa**

            Of course Kogane finds her because he’s apparently psychic or just that unlucky. She’s sitting out on the loading dock outside the scenic studio, her legs hanging over the edge, staring out into the parking lot. The wind tugs at her long hair, dragging it across her face awkwardly, strands sticking to her cheeks where they’re slick with tears. Kogane’s about to walk past her, going down the stairs, his boots clump-clonking against the metal when he pauses, noticing her. She hears his footfalls as he backtracks, coming over to stand over her.

            “Hey.” It’s not the most stellar of opening lines, but she figures she has to acknowledge his presence somehow.

            “Taking your federally mandated fifteen minute break?” he asks, but that’s not really the question.

            She nods anyway, swallowing, “Yeah. I’ll be back in in five.”

            He surprises her by sinking down to sit beside her, hanging his own feet over the edge with hers. “I figure asking if you’re okay is kind of dumb, so let’s skip to the part where I awkwardly try to figure out what’s wrong and try to fix it.”

            That’s enough to shake a laugh out of her. She scrubs at her face with the heel of her hand, “It’s nothing, it’s fine, really.”

            “Yeah, I’ve found people don’t actually cry about nothing. They cry about somethings they don’t want to have to explain to anyone else.” He’s not looking at her, he’s gazing out at the parking lot, arms hooked over the loading dock’s removable railing, the wind kicking his hair up into a dark cloud around his head. His nose is a little off-kilter she realizes, looking at him in profile, like it’s been broken multiple times. She wonders about that. She knows, objectively, that he and Lance are actually in their late twenties, they’re not that much older than the interns themselves, but at the same time they feel so much like grownups and Alyssa feels so much like a kid. She’s never had an older sibling; she wonders what it’s like.

            She sighs. “It’s just…it’s my birthday,” she shrugs, “And…nobody called.”

            Kogane doesn’t say anything so she keeps talking. “My parents are scientists, and their parents are scientists and my aunts and uncles are all scientists or mathematics professors and there’s one uncle who’s an engineer but he’s kind of the black sheep of the family because he only has a master’s degree,” she rolls her eyes and she sounds a little hysterical; she’s not sure if she’s going to start laughing or crying, “And my grandparents are a really big deal in their fields and my aunts and uncles are all kind of big deals and my parents…I guess they feel like they need to play catch-up or something? To keep up? I don’t know; they’re always traveling though, for research. They’re in South America right now and I know that’s why I didn’t get a call, I mean, cell service is bad _here_ sometimes; it’s probably non-existent in the rainforest. They probably tried to call. It’s not like they don’t care, they do. And they’re actually really cool with the whole ‘doing my own thing and oh, hey, it’s theatre!’ thing. But they don’t really get it sometimes and it shows. We don’t have much in common, I guess. They try, just, there’s not a lot to talk about. And they’re not around a whole lot,” she sniffles and oh god, she’s crying in front of her _boss_ , this is probably the most embarrassing thing to happen to her all day and that’s counting the singing diner staff this morning at breakfast with Adela and Farid.

            But Kogane just hums sympathetically, “You know, my mom was a scientist.”

            “What?”

            “Yeah. She graduated with honors from Columbia. She was really fucking smart.”

            “Yeah? What did she think of the whole…theatre thing?”

            Kogane shakes his head, “I got into theatre after she died, but I think she would have liked it. She would have gone to every show and whispered ‘that’s my son’ really loudly every time run crew appeared on stage and high school me would have wanted to _die_ from embarrassment.”

            Alyssa stares at him, she’s never really thought of Kogane as having a past, really. She knows he has a personal life; it’s not like Alyssa’s an elementary schooler convinced her teacher sleeps in their classroom. She knows Kogane exists outside of this place, but she’s never really thought about him as a person with his own little tragedies and heartbreaks. Somehow it was always easier just to assume he’d always been the way he was with Lance: eccentric and happy and loved.

            He glances at her, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to try to do that ‘well, it could be worse’ thing. That’s a dick move.”

            She snorts a laugh and he reciprocates with his own chuckle.

            “I always hated it when people were like ‘well, it could be worse, you know there are people a lot worse off than you’,” He says, “It just pissed me off. Like, way to invalidate whatever I’m feeling _and_ make me feel bad that there’s someone out there having a worse day than me,” he shakes his head, still chuckling, “Anyway. That wasn’t what I was getting at earlier. I get it. I get distant parents. My mom…was a very unique person. We didn’t see eye to eye about a lot of things. But I know she loved me. I’m sure your parents do too, just sometimes its hard to bridge the gap when you feel like someone’s gone somewhere you can’t follow,” Kogane’s eyes are distant, and Alyssa wonders about his mom, wonders what he’s seeing as he stares out across the parking lot, “And for now you have us.”

            “You volunteering to be my dad, Kogane?”

            “Well, Lance seems to think you’re his children, so why not?” he jokes, then sobers, “But really, sometimes having an older brother in your corner can go a long way. I should know. Just. If you need anything. You know Lance will nurture you to death and me, I’ll listen and give really shitty, meandering life advice.”  

            She bumps his shoulder with her own, “It’s not that bad.”

            “Wow, I feel so complimented.”

            She laughs and wipes at her eyes, “Thanks, Keith.”

            “Huh, so you do know my name.”

            She laughs again; it feels better this time, “Thanks for listening, Keith.”

            “Any time. And, for what it’s worth, happy birthday.”

            “Thanks,” she smiles and she actually means it.

…

**Keith**

**To: Lance**

When’s Keith’s birthday?

His employee paperwork has the wrong date

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

DID HE WRITE SEPTEMBER 31ST

??????

**To: Lance**

How did you know?

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

KEITH

**To: Lance**

Ooookay

So when is it?

We want to do something nice for him

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

It’s December 21st

Winter solstice

**To: Lance**

Crap, we missed it

By a lot

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

Yeah…

Sorry

**To: Lance**

Not your fault

We’ll make him a cake anyway

**To: Alyssa the Intern**

The ultimate surprise party

Surprise! It’s not your birthday

I’m in

Tell me how I can help.

…

            Ultimately, the cake is kind of misshapen and the frosting is definitely uneven. Adela has the best penmanship of all of them so it falls on her to write on ‘Happy Belated Birthday’ in red piping and frankly, that’s the nicest part of the cake. But at least they used Hunk’s recipe so they know it will taste good (Farid wanted to taste-test it but the girls put a stop to that).

            Lance agreed to get Keith to come back to the theatre (he ended up having to hide Keith’s wallet and then convince him he must have left it at work) so he’s the one who makes sure Keith is in the green room, grumbling under his breath and searching for something that’s not actually missing when the interns yell ‘Happy Late Birthday, you jerk’ at him.

            To his credit, Keith only jumps and tenses up a little bit at a sudden barrage of voices coming at him from a darkened room.

            But by the time the lights come on and he sees the interns with their very obviously homemade cake and Adela’s pre-written speech (“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to pay tribute to Keith’s ridiculous birthday deception and how it makes entirely no sense. We are unapologetic about the tardiness of this cake as it would have been given to the celebrant much sooner, i.e. on his actual birthday or thereabouts if he did not see the need to lie about when it is like a goober”) he’s actually kind of smiling.

            The trio sings Happy Birthday while Keith tucks in his chin and laughs at the floor, a pink flush sneaking up his neck. Lance kisses his cheek and Keith’s smile actually brightens, if possible. Farid presses play on his ipod and blasts ‘Not Your Birthday’ on high volume for the first time since January and the girls laugh and groan in equal measure.

            The cake is just as good as Hunk promised.


	4. I Stretched My Hands Up to the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord of the Dance (Farid): We’re sorry  
> Alyssa: Very sorry   
> Lance: DRUNK KEITH HAS THE IMPULSE CONTROL OF A RACCOON ON CRACK, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?  
> Lord of the Dance (Farid): IN OUR DEFENSE WE DIDN’T KNOW THAT AT THE TIME
> 
> Lance is out of town and the interns convince Keith to go to the cast party anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE THIS FIC HAS GOTTEN
> 
> I don't have much to say here, I've just had a stressful week so I'm just posting this ridiculous comedy of errors.

**I Stretched My Hands Up to the Sky**

            It all starts with a root canal.

            “Babe? Babe. Baaaaabe.”

            Keith cracks an eye open and doesn’t even bother to bat away Lance’s finger as his boyfriend keeps poking his cheek. “What?”

            “Hi.”

            “I swear to god, Lance, if you woke me up just to say hi I will…” Keith can’t think of a suitable threat. Keith is tired. Keith is trying to take a nap on the couch and Lance is making it difficult. “Do something. And you won’t like it.”

            “Very scary,” Lance looks like he’s on the edge of laughter; he switches from poking Keiht’s face to playing with the tendrils of dark hair that usually frame Keith’s eyes but at the moment are doing their level best to get in his face. Keith doesn’t mind. Keith wants to go back to napping on the couch, please.

            “What do you want?”

            “Wow, the romance is dead.”

            “You woke me up.”

            “Nice to know the romance was easy to kill,” Lance chuckles, running a fingertip down the spine of Keith’s nose, then casually reaching up to stroke each eyebrow with the pad of his thumb. “You’re pretty.”

            Keith huffs, “And you’re fucking gorgeous, now let me go back to sleep.”

            Lance grins the most brilliant, earth-shattering grin at him, like he always does when Keith casually compliments him. Keith reminds himself he really should do that compliment thing more often. (Keith’s never been good with compliments, with saying things he thinks or feels, he’s not free with his affection like Lance, he doesn’t always know how to touch softly, speak gently, so he shies away from it sometimes, unable to find the words.)

“Aww, babe.”

            “What do you _want_?”

            Lance doesn’t answer, just climbs onto the couch half-beside, half-on top of Keith and snuggles close, tucking his head in the curve of Keith’s throat, beneath his chin. Keith’s arms come up around him automatically even as he grumbles, “This couch wasn’t made for two grown men, Lance.”

            “Well then the couch people should get on fixing that obvious defect in their design,” Lance chuckles against his chest.

            “I’m starting to think you just woke me up for attention.”

            “No, no, I actually need to talk to you about something.”

            “Make it quick,” Keith yawns. He’s fading fast now. Lance is warm and heavy on his chest, a solid, comforting weight against his sternum and the lure of just drifting off like this is strong.

            “Okay, so Val is getting an emergency root canal on Friday. She went to the dentist today, apparently it’s bad.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “And Bruce is at a conference in Florida until next Tuesday so she needs someone to help with the girls when she’s out of her mind on pain meds.”

            “Okay.”

            “And since I live the closest and am a Responsible Adult and Excellent Brother she asked if I could come down to the city for the weekend.”

            “I’m sure she phrased it exactly like that,” Keith yawns again.

            “Oh definitely,” Lance assures him breezily, “So what do you think?”

            “Why are you asking me?”

            “Because that’s the nice thing to do? What if you actually needed me this weekend and I left without telling you? That’d suck.”

            “I don’t need you this weekend.”

            “Well that was cruel but direct,” Lance mock-pouts.

            Keith repositions them slightly so he can kiss his ridiculous boyfriend on the forehead, “I don’t need you any more than usual, okay?”

            Lance huffs and resettles, “Better. But is it cool with you if I spend the weekend at my sister’s?”

            “You don’t need my permission.”

            “I know that, babe, this is just a courtesy thing. This is _communication_. According to Carly we suck at it and I have to prove her wrong. Here’s how this works: I let you know about a thing, ask if it’s cool with you if I do the thing, you either say ‘sure, Lance, live your dreams’ or you say ‘actually I’m getting my wisdom teeth removed/repainting the house/hosting a traveling circus in our backyard this weekend and could really use your help’ and we negotiate from there. That’s it.”

            Keith can feel his face crinkling in confusion, “Sounds complicated.”

            Lance sighs.

            “But sure,” Keith agrees, “we’ve got shows all weekend so I’ll be working most of it anyway. Tell Val and the girls I said hi.”

            “Dani’s going to be so mad she doesn’t get to see you,” Lance chuckles, “You’re her favorite.”

            “Good to know.”

            It all starts with a root canal.

…

**Friday Night**

**To: Keith**

omg,

Val on painkillers is HILARIOUS

She keeps trying to boss us around

And edit her google calendar

But she’s kinda…wobbly

She’s drunk-sailor walking

I had to bribe her to sit down

Now we’re watching Titanic

fyi, if we were on the Titanic

I WOULD SHARE THE GODDAMN RAFT

**To: Lance**

Lance, I’m working

**To: Keith**

I’m just saying.

There was room for two

On the raft

I would share with you

Because I love you

**To: Lance**

I’m working right now

**To: Keith**

Heeeey, you draw

Draw me like one your French girls, Keith

**To: Lance**

Hi Lance, this is Adela on Keith’s phone

He said to tell you he’s working and cannot text

(he’s running pre-show fight and dance calls

I’m not doing anything)

And he’s never been to France

And doesn’t like girls

Ergo, he has no French girls

Also, this is really awkward for me,

Like learning-about-your-parents-sex-life awkward

So I’m gonna put his phone on silent now.

**To: Keith**

ADELA!!!!

HI!

HOW ARE MY CHILDREN???

**To: Lance**

We’re good

Farid and Alyssa are trying to get

Keith to come to the cast party

**To: Keith**

He shooooould

Tell him I told him to have fun

And I love him

**To: Lance**

This is all on his phone

So he’s gonna see all of this

**To: Keith**

Don’t let him go home to mope

He gets lonely

And lies about it

**To: Lance**

Okay

Oh, got to go, we’re actually doing real stuff now

**To: Keith**

Bye, Adela!

I wouldn’t let you drown on the Titanic either!

All of my children are surviving, dammit!

…

**Later, Friday Night**

**GROUP CHAT**

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Lance, help, we’ve made a terrible mistake.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Lance

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Laaaance

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** MOM PLEASE HELP USSSSS

**Lance:** Sorry, I’m babysitting my nieces, what’s up? What happened? Are you all okay?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** We’ve made some very poor choices

**Lance:** WHAT’S HAPPENING? ARE YOU ALRIGHT????

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** So we had this idea…

**Alyssa:** Farid. Farid had the idea.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** Fine, whatever, this is mostly my fault. Anyway. We wanted Keith to loosen up…

**Lance:** oh my god…what did you do???

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** We kind of got Keith drunk…

**Alyssa:** Really drunk.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** We’re sorry

**Alyssa:** Very sorry

**Lance:** DRUNK KEITH HAS THE IMPULSE CONTROL OF A RACCOON ON CRACK, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** IN OUR DEFENSE WE DIDN’T KNOW THAT AT THE TIME

**Lance:** What did he do?????

**Lance:** And what is he drinking?

**Alyssa:** Well in the beginning it was vodka shots.

**Lance:** Aww, I missed out on vodka Keith? Vodka Keith is the best!!!

**Alyssa:** And then there was some weird apricot liquor one of the actors was having us all try.

**Alyssa:** And then there was some wine.

**Lance:** Oh crap, wine Keith is mean. Idk what apricot liquor Keith is like

**Alyssa:** And that was around the time Tony made some snarky comment to Adela about how stage managers aren’t the artists, they’re the support staff or some crap and Keith snapped.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** I have video…

 

…loading video file…

            _“Shut up you overgrown, punctuality-challenged infant,” video-Keith snaps, eyes glittering, face slightly flushed. He’s shorter than Tony but more solid somehow, more grounded and imposing despite the fact that he’s looking up at the kid, “You think what I do isn’t art? Have you ever tried to coordinate lights, sound, projections, and run crew all at once? Have you felt all the pieces fall into place; have you seen it all come together on your mark, on your say-so? There’s a rhythm to it, music, there’s a_ dance _. Adela and I are goddamned_ conductors _in that booth and you lot are our symphony and if you think for one fucking_ second _that you could get along without us up there then I hope you like standing around in the dark and the quiet because that’s what you’d have if we weren’t there calling the beats. I think it’s time you grow up and realize that there’s more to making art than whatever you’re doing at any given time.”_

End video

 

**Lance:** Awww. I might cry. Keith is having an emotion.

**Lance:** Wait, he didn’t punch the kid, did he?

**Lance:** Because that would be a problem

**Adela:** No, he just kind of stalked off while Tony gaped after him.

**Lance:** Good. Glad he stuck up for you. Theatre family <3

**Adela:** You don’t even go here

**Lance: *** Gasp* was that a Mean Girls reference?

**Adela:** ugh, mooom, you’re so embarassing

**Alyssa:** Anyone think it’s weirdly heteronormative that we call Lance ‘mom’?

**Lance:** I’m okay with it. :) I think it’s cute.

**Lord of the Dance (Farid):** So crisis averted? Yeah?

**Lance:** Oh, no, keep an eye on him; remember what I said. Raccoon on Crack.

…

**Even Later Friday Night**

**GROUP CHAT**

  * Adela sent a video –



…loading video…

            _“IMMIGRANTS, WE GET THE JOB DONE!” video-Farid is standing on a table, trying to rap something from_ Hamilton _with limited success._

_“FARID, YOU WERE BORN IN JERSEY!” Alyssa throws something at him, maybe a chunk of a bread roll._

_“But, like, I’m descended from immigrants. My grandparents immi- imini – immagranated.”_

_Alyssa rolls her eyes and throws more bread at him as he starts in on a different song, stumbling on the words and swaying in place, “Wait, wait, wait,” he waves his arms, “what the fuck comes next?”_

_“heheh, what if you ‘wait for it’?” Alyssa laughs at her own reference._

_“Heeeeey, Keith, what comes next?”_

_Video-Keith is holding a new drink and leaning against the wall, face definitely flushed. He seems to seriously consider this question for a moment before shrugging. “La vie boheme,” he suggests very seriously._

_“But that’s the wrong musical…” Drunk Farid seems to really be struggling with the logic here._

_But Alyssa starts slapping the table excitedly, “Sing, sing, sing! Come on, Keeeeith, siiiiing.”_

_The rest of the cast and crew, in equivalent states of intoxication take up the refrain and Keith, shrugging again, detaches himself from the wall and walks over to the table._

            End video

 

**Lance:** OH MY GOD, WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?????????? DID HE SING????? CAN KEITH SING?????

**Adela:** IT GETS BETTER

 

…loading video file…

_Drunk video Keith is standing on the table, pacing back and forth, effortlessly going through the entirety of ‘La Vie Boheme’ from_ Rent _, even the dialogue and the dinner orders._

_“To days of inspiration_

_Playing hooky, making_

_Something out of nothing_

_The need to express-_

_To communicate,_

_To going against the grain,_

_Going insane, going maaad”_

_He’s not dancing, Keith doesn’t dance on his own, not really, but he isn’t missing a single word or beat, despite being drunk enough to, well, jump on a table and sing-recite songs from 90s musicals._

_“To being an us for once…instead of a theeem!”_

_On that line the whole company sing-shouts “LA VIE BOHEME!”_

End video

 

**Lance:** I need to go to more theatre parties.

…

**After Midnight Friday Night/Saturday Morning**

**GROUP CHAT**

**Adela:** Is Keith ever a sad drunk?

**Lance:** Pretty much never? Why? Is he okay???

**Adela:** He’s fine, but Farid is def an emotional drunk and he’s prob going to start sobbing on his shoulder at some point.

**Adela:** So I guess is Keith a sad drunk or a sympathy-crier?

**Lance:** lol, basically never. He should be fine.

…

**GROUP CHAT**

**Adela:** Update.

 

…sending photo…

FaridGoHomeYou’reDrunk.jpg

ComfortingKeith.jpg

PuppyPile.jpg

 

**Lance:** Do they each have a shoulder?

**Adela:** Yep. Farid got all weepy over a song for some reason and now he’s sitting on the floor sniffling on Keith while Keith awkwardly pats his shoulder and says “There, there,” really seriously. And Alyssa’s just sleepy so she’s kind of groggily leaning on his other shoulder. (she’s a lightweight) Thought you’d want to see it.

**Lance:** Uh, it’s adorable.

**Adela:** Awww, he just froze and gave me the SADDEST FUCKING LOOK ON THE PLANET and said: “I miss Lance.”

 

…sending video…

_Drunk video Keith stares at the camera very earnestly. Alyssa is slumped against his left shoulder, her long hair spilling free and slipping over her face. Farid’s leaning on Keith’s other side, sniffling slightly and clutching an empty bottle of white wine._

_“I miss Lance. My house is empty. That’s really…lame. Empty houses are the worst.” Keith blinks, like he’s really concentrating on how much empty houses suck. “But…it’s not in the desert. Not in the desert is nice. There’s too much…sand in the desert. Sand is annoying. But I miss Lance. He should come back.”_

End video.

 

**Lance:** WHY DID YOU SHOW ME THAT???? NOW I WANT TO COME BACK!!!!!

**Adela:** You guys are the cutest.

**Lance:** AND DID HE KIND OF REFERENCE ‘ATTACK OF THE CLONES’? SHAME ON YOU, DRUNK ADORABLE KEITH

**Adela:** Seriously. The cutest. Best theatre dads.

**Lance:** Awww, best theatre kids.

**Lance:** You’ve got a designated driver, right?

**Adela:** Yeah, I’m sober. Someone’s got to look after the family when Dad’s left with the kids.

**Lance:** You are the firstborn child.

**Adela:** I know. Alyssa’s totally the middle child and Farid’s the baby of the family.

**Lance:** Seems legit.

…

**Saturday Morning**

**To: Lance**

Oh my god

Was last night real?

**To: Keith**

GOOD MORNING BEAUTIFUL

And yeah, lol

You’re a good singer, btw

**To: Lance**

Oh my GOD

Did I - ?

**To: Keith**

Lecture Tony on the artistic merit of stage management?

Sing the entirety of the best song from Rent on a table?

Let Farid drunk cry on you?

Monologue about how much you miss me?

And how much you hate sand?

Yes.

All of the above.

**To: Lance**

What.

No.

Ugh.

I do miss you, though

**To: Keith**

I have video and photographic evidence

Of everything

And I miss you too

**To: Lance**

I can’t believe I did that in front of the kids

**To: Keith**

SO YOU ADMIT IT

THEY ARE OUR CHILDREN

**To: Lance**

What.

No.

They’re just…

They’re children!

**To: Keith**

Our children

…

**Monday**

            Keith is obviously trying to Play it Cool when Lance gets home but he’s following him around all over the house so he’s basically acting like a kitten that doesn’t _need_ your attention, thanks, but, you know, would be open to it, since you’re conveniently nearby.

            “How’s Val?”

            “Off prescription pain meds but still pissed about how inconvenient mouth surgery is.”

            “Sounds about right.”

            Lance turns around to face him, “Babe, I’m doing laundry.”

            “Yes.”

            “You don’t need to stand this close to me for me to do laundry effectively.”

            Keith shrugs, unabashed; “I have to make sure you’re doing it right.”

            “Okay, one, lies, foul lies! Two, I am an excellent launderer. You’re the one who doesn’t believe in dryer sheets or fabric softener.”

            “They’re clothes, you wash them with soap, then you dry them in the dryer, you don’t need all that extra stuff!”

            “Heathen.” Lance turns back to sorting his clothes. Since _his_ wardrobe _isn’t_ predominantly black t-shirts and jeans he actually has to make sure his lighter clothing doesn’t get stained by the occasional red sock.

            Keith catches one of his belt loops and pulls him away and into Keith’s own personal space, looping arms around Lance’s waist to keep him in place. “Missed you.”

            “You’re so weird,” Lance laughs, “But yeah, my sis and the girls are great, but I missed you too.”

            “The jury’s still out on the interns.”

            “Hey, be nice to them.”

            “They got me drunk.”

            “Out of _love_.”

            Keith makes a suspicious humming noise, but lets it go.

            “I want to go to the next cast party,” Lance decides, “I need to see you sing some les Miserables. Or maybe some Wicked. The kids can do that ‘Revolting Children’ song from Matilda.”

            Keith laughs, “How do you know all of these?”

            Lance shrugs, “You do realize your iTunes library is basically 60% showtunes right? And the rest is your weird emo pop?”

            “It’s not emo pop.”

            “You still listen to MCR, babe. Embrace the emo.”

            “I also listen to Panic! at the Disco.”

            “I rest my case.”

            Keith laughs; Lance can feel it vibrate up where their chests are pressed together. “Of course you can come to the next cast party.”

            “Yay!”

            “But don’t you dare share that video with Shiro.”

            “No promises…”


	5. We Danced with Monsters all Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m on the floor.”   
> “I can see that.”   
> “Can you get me off the floor?” Keith asks plaintively and Lance, who had been standing over him, watching this trainwreck, laughs gently and helps him back onto his feet. Keith sways into his space and leans half his weight on him. “I’m so fucking tired.”   
> “Maybe doing three shows at once is a little insane?” Lance offers, guiding him away from the obstacle course his boots, bag, and discarded jacket have turned the floor into.   
> “No,” Keith yawns, “I can do it.” 
> 
> Keith cannot do three shows - the interns are officially Concerned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT AS ALWAYS, YOU'RE ALL LOVELY
> 
> Sorry for falling off the map a bit there, my real life got really busy, this past weekend was veeery stressful... But I'm back now!
> 
> So this fic largely came from the fact that in the theatre industry the burn-out rate for professional stage managers is very, very high. It's a high stress job and lots of people do it because there are always companies looking for good stage managers. Many don't stay stage managers, they move on to other parts of the field and maybe eventually come back to it. (Please bear in mind I am not a professional stage manager, but I do work in a theatre. Most of my information on the profession comes from friends and colleagues and my own observations)
> 
> Also, I got a surprising number of requests for more Tony screen time so I present to you...Tony Rossi. 
> 
> I always feel weird about giving warnings, because I never know what I should warn for, so I guess just bear in mind that Keith's work-until-you-literally collapse tendency is unhealthy and if that gets to you, this might not be the fic for you. Also, there's a small panic attack but it's not graphic or long. 
> 
> p.s Farid's name in Tony's phone is a reference to a very funny farce about backstage shenanigans titled 'Noises Off'

**We Danced with Monsters all Through the Night**

            Keith knows instinctually that he really shouldn’t take the job, that it’s probably a bad idea, that any slight setback will send his tenuously balanced schedule crashing down around him and he won’t be able to stop it.

            …But it’s a good job, for good money, and the project is interesting and they asked for _him specifically_. There’s nothing quite like knowing that you’re first choice for something. Keith doesn’t have a lot of experience being people’s first choice anything.

            So yeah, he takes the second job. It’s in the next town over and means he has to drive to rehearsal every night, but his home company just opened a show, this show will be rehearsing in mid-afternoons, after he gets off of the day shift but before he has to be back for performances, nothing will overlap…it’s doable. Keith can make it work; he knows he can.

            Keith takes the job.

…

            Contrary to popular belief, Tony isn’t scared of Kogane. He…respects him…respectfully…from a distance. Okay, he’s a little scared of Kogane. Maybe intimidated is the better word.

            And Tony gets that he has a filter problem, he does. And yeah, what he said at the cast party about tech roles was out of line, and Kogane was right to snap at him. But that doesn’t make apologizing any more appealing.

            He’d considered just ignoring it, pretending it didn’t happen. Kogane seems like he’d even buy into that, just never speak of it again; let the past be the past. But that doesn’t make Tony feel any better when he gets to a pick-up rehearsal early and sees Kogane already there, cuebook in one hand, coffee in the other. He looks tired. The stage manager is a decent distance away from where Tony’s standing, down the hall. Alyssa’s just stopped Kogane to ask a question and he’s spun around to speak to her. He seems to wobble slightly when he stops but it’s hard to tell. Alyssa doesn’t seem to notice, smiling brightly at him, talking a mile a minute, hands fluttering in front of her like pale little birds. It’s hard to compare this Alyssa with the Alyssa Tony saw on their first day. She’s so much more outspoken now, brighter, she seems to fill up more space than before somehow, despite still barely coming up to Kogane’s shoulder.

            Speaking of Kogane – he cuts through Alyssa’s torrent of words with a few measured sentences of his own, his voice quieter than hers but steadier. The words seem slower though, like maybe there’s some lag time between his thoughts and their expression. Tony can’t shake the feeling that there’s something off there; that maybe there’s something up with Kogane.

            Alyssa nods though, says thank you and rushes off without giving any indication of noticing anything amiss. Maybe Tony’s way off base here. Maybe he’s projecting. He knows he’s tired. They all are; it’s just part of the job.

            Kogane is approaching now; he’s just noticed Tony standing there. The stage manger offers him a thin smile, “Am I late to rehearsal or is Adela just giving you the wrong calls again?”

            Tony shrugs, “Just thought I’d try being early for once. See how I like it.”

            Kogane makes a sound that might be a laugh, “And how do you like it?”

            Tony shrugs again, “Feels really punctual.”

            Kogane raises an eyebrow at his non-answer, but all he says is “Remember to sign in.”

            He walks away before Tony can figure out how to say he’s sorry for what he said at the cast party.

…

            Tony stops by the theatre to get some peace and quiet (his roommates are being more obnoxious than usual – he always thought it was supposed to get better after undergrad but apparently not) and finds Kogane fiddling with the lights. “What are you doing?” Tony blurts out before he can remember that maybe demanding to know what a guy on a really tall ladder supporting a very expensive and very heavy piece of lighting equipment is doing is probably a bad life choice.

            Kogane, to his credit, barely twitches, “Taking this down so I can change the bulb.”

            “Aren’t there…people for that?” Tony asks lamely, wincing at the entitled note in his voice. “I mean; you don’t really work in lighting do you?”

            Kogane shrugs, “I do a little bit of everything. It’s part of the job.”

            “Yeah, somehow I don’t think doing other people’s jobs is part of your job description.”

            Kogane shrugs again, “Things happen. We’re all supposed to be working together here, aren’t we? Supporting each other, all that emotionally healthy bullshit –”

            Tony chokes on a laugh at the unexpected profanity.

            “ – and word on the street is not leaving little problems for other people is part of being a supportive collaborator,” Keith finishes.

            “Still,” Tony’s a little stuck on this, “Isn’t that…just letting yourself get taken advantage of?”

            Kogane snorts, “This is theatre. You cannibalize your own emotions for other people’s entertainment on stage every night. How is demanding you put on a really great performance not taking advantage of you?”

            “Because it’s my job!” Tony exclaims.

            Kogane hums, “See?”

            “Not really,” Tony huffs, feeling like a kid missing out on some big secret, “Here, you can pass that one down to me,” he holds up his hands for the light.

            Kogane shoots him a look, “If you drop this I might be forced to kill you.”

            “If you fall off that ladder and die because you tried to climb down carrying a twenty-pound light when I could have helped, Adela might kill _me_.”

            “Ah, I see, you’re entirely motivated by self-interest.”

            “Definitely,” Tony says lightly as he takes the light, “I’m too amazing to die.”

            “You’re something,” Kogane shakes his head, “Do you have it?”

            “Yeah, you can let go.” Tony takes the full weight of the light, setting it down on the deck as Kogane climbs down the ladder, “Is this the only burnt out bulb?” Tony asks.

            “No, there’s one more,” Kogane is already moving the ladder.

            Tony hesitates, a little uncertain; “I can replace the bulb while you get the other one…y’know…if you want.”

            Kogane looks at him, “You know how?”

            Tony nods, “Yeah, I worked in the lighting studio in school for some extra cash.”

            Kogane’s eyes are sharp and incisive, bracketed with dark circles that somehow just make them seem more distant and unreadable, “You were in school with Farid.”

            Tony’s lips twitch, “Yeah, we weren’t really friends, though. Kind of…acquaintances who like to one-up each other? Like, we didn’t hang out or anything but we were aware that the other person was around, I guess.”

            “Hmm,” Kogane considers this. Tony wonders what he’s thinking. If he’s thinking anything at all. The dude looks exhausted. “The new light bulb is in the box on the edge of the stage if you want to swap it out. Don’t get any fingerprints on it.”

            “I know,” Tony rolls his eyes, “I’ve done this before.”

            They work in silence for a moment. Tony is very familiar with different qualities of silence; you have to be as an actor. One of the first things you realize onstage is that everything has meaning, even silence. Silences can be tight, can be easy, can comfortable, can be fraught. Whole scenes can play out entirely in silence.

            He doesn’t like this silence. It’s tense. He opens his mouth; he feels the apology he doesn’t know how to give burning on the tip of his tongue, when Kogane interrupts.

            “Did you know that George Bernard Shaw’s ending to the play _Pygmalion_ was so unpopular that numerous directors tried to change it? The only one who got away with it was the one who didn’t change any of the lines but added a brief, completely silent scene at the very end that entirely altered the conclusion? Shaw was _pissed._ ”

            “Does silence freak you out or something?” Tony blurts because Tony struggles with filtering.

            “It seemed to be making you uncomfortable.”

            Tony huffs, “What, do you have some kind of stage manager sixth sense?”

            “Definitely,” Kogane says flatly, “Come here and take this light so I don’t fall and die.”

            Tony actually finds himself laughing at that, closing up the first light and setting the burnt out lightbulb aside before getting up to take the light Kogane passes down to him. Tony watches his boss descend the ladder. There’s a lag time to his movements, like a video game that’s having processing trouble.

            “You okay?” Tony asks before he can stop himself. It comes out blunter and more aggressive than he meant it to.

            Kogane gives him a flat look, “Fine.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Are you done with that light?”

            “Huh?”

            Kogane raises an eyebrow and nods towards the light Tony just fixed.

            “Oh, uh, yeah.”

            Kogane nods and moves the ladder again; grabbing the light and taking it back up. Tony gets to work on the new light.

           It’s weirdly peaceful, just working like this. Tony was never going to admit it when he was in school but he’d really liked working in lighting. There was something peaceful about the consistency to it. No matter what the lighting design was, the same procedure always applied. You hung the lights a certain way, cabled them a certain way, patched and focused them a certain way. Everything had a system and a pattern to it. It was nice.

            He’s half-expecting Kogane to try to make conversation but he doesn’t. Tony isn’t sure if that’s a relief or just more stressful. Now he feels like _he_ has to say something.

            He scans the theatre, searching for something to talk about. “Are you on your fifth Red Bull?” he blurts out when he sees the cluster of cans on the stage next to the light bulb boxes.

            “Yes.”

            “Are you insane? That’s not healthy.”

            Kogane doesn’t bother to respond to this. That’s fair. Tony wouldn’t respond if someone several years younger than him started randomly criticizing his lifestyle too. Still. Five cans of Red Bull. Plus however much coffee the guy guzzles. Not healthy.

            They finish the lights mostly in silence, although before Tony leaves, Kogane’s voice stops him. “You know, helping me change light bulbs isn’t your job either.”

            “What are you trying to Jedi-Master me or something?”

            “Oh yes, definitely. I secretly aspire to the life of a bearded desert hermit,” Kogane says, wry humor twisting his words in a way Tony can’t really follow.

            “Whatever makes you happy, man. You do you.”

            Kogane huffs a dry laugh at that and Tony isn’t really sure what happened but he feels better somehow anyway.

…

            “Hey, babe, you’re home late,” Lance yawns from the couch when Keith staggers through the doorway.

            “Late is relative,” Keith yawns, ditching his messenger bag in the entryway; then almost tripping over it when he goes to take his boots off. He gets boot number one off while keeping a tenuous grip on his balance, but boot number two is his undoing and he finds himself intimately acquainted with the floor. He’s too tired to fight gravity, so he just lays there for a long moment. “Lance.”

            “Babe, you are a disaster.”

            “I’m on the floor.”

            “I can see that.”

            “Can you get me off the floor?” Keith asks plaintively and Lance, who had been standing over him, watching this trainwreck, laughs gently and helps him back onto his feet. Keith sways into his space and leans half his weight on him. “I’m so fucking tired.”

            “Maybe doing three shows at once is a little insane?” Lance offers, guiding him away from the obstacle course his boots, bag, and discarded jacket have turned the floor into.

            “No,” Keith yawns, “I can do it.”

            “No, no, no, you are not falling asleep mid-walk, that is creepy and I won’t allow it,” Lance insists, getting him over to the couch and settling him on the cushions with Keith giving about 50% effort to help with this move.

            Keith just lets his muscles turn to liquid when he hits the upholstery. Although he keeps a tight grip on Lance’s sleeve when his boyfriend tries to leave him there.

            “Where are you going?”

            “To get you dinner. Food and water? Kind of essential to human life.”

            Keith makes a sound that might have been words if humans had no tongues. “Stay.”

            Lance whines, “Stop being cute.”

            “Stay.”

            “Ugh, you are diabolical.”

            “Please – ” yawn “ – stay.”

            Lance sighs dramatically, “Fine, but I’ll have you know this is against your own best interests.” He settles on the couch beside Keith anyway, their bodies overlapping, the couch not really big enough for two grown men. Keith sighs heavily and tangles their limbs together.

            “So how was work?” Lance asks Keith’s sternum from where his face is pressed into his boyfriend’s chest.

            “Work-like.”

            “Deeply descriptive as usual.”

            Keith sighs, “Tired. But…something weird happened.”

            “What?”

            “Had an actual conversation with Tony.”

            “Our problem child?”

            Keith chuckles, “You’ve never met him. You’ve seen him once, at a distance, at the holiday party.”

            Lance chuckles, “Yeah, he’s really just your problem child. Wait,” he laughs harder, the sound sending rippling vibrations through where their chests are pressed together, “Does that make me his theatre step-mom?”

            “Why do I have to have full responsibility for this one?”

            “Hey, he’s trying to bond with you.”          

            “We had one conversation that wasn’t me getting on his case about something. Not exactly a moment.”

            Lance hums happily, “He’s just acting out because his siblings are getting so much of your attention.”

            “You are really committed to this family metaphor.”

            “It brings me joy, yes.”

            Keith snorts, “Whatever. I’m sleeping.”

            Lance laughs again and cuddles closer, “Sweet dreams.”

            Keith is already out like a light.

…

            The next show in the theatre’s line-up is beginning rehearsals the same week as closing weekend of the current show and he’s still driving out to the next town over to work _that_ show and Keith is man enough to admit that three shows at once is maybe too much for him. Well. Maybe he’s not quite willing to admit it out loud.

            But in the quiet of his own head he’s wondering about his decision-making skills.

            Outside the quiet of his own head he downs a can of Red Bull like a shot and wonders if his hands are supposed to be jittering quite this much.

…

            “I’m sorry, Adela, could you repeat that?” Keith asks for what feels like the millionth time. He’s having a hard time keeping track of everything she’s saying. Does she always talk so _fast_? His head is killing him. The lights feel too bright, his skin too tight. He just wants to go home and sleep.

            Adela’s dark brows pull together. She hasn’t straightened her hair today, it’s held back by a colorful cloth headband but otherwise fluffs up around her face like a halo of black curls. “I was saying I went to mark out the rehearsal space but couldn’t find the right tape.”

            “Oh, should be in the stage manager’s box in the control booth.”

            “I looked there.” Her tone says that maybe she’s already told him she looked there; he just spaced out and forgot. Dammit, he needs to be more on top of this.

            “Check the shop.”

            “Okay,” she gives him a long look. “What’s up with you?”

            He musters up a reassuring smile, “Just a little spacey. Tired. It’s fine.”

            “You sure?”

            “Totally and completely.”

            “Okay, as long as you’re sure.” She looks a little mollified, but not entirely happy.

            “Go get your tape, we need to get this done.”

            She nods, curls bouncing, the command apparently assuring her that he is, in fact, fine.

            Keith doesn’t feel fine but that’s okay. He’s been less than fine before.

…

**To: Lance**

I’m gonna be working late

Might sleep at the theatre

**To: KEEEEEITH  
** You want me to bring you dinner?

**To: Lance**

It’s okay

There’s a convenience store

Like a block away

I’m at the other theatre

Don’t want to make you drive all the way out here

**To: KEEEEEITH**

I can do it

Don’t want you to go hungry

**To: Lance**

It’s almost midnight

You have to be up at six

Get some rest

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Only if you promise to eat

And sleep

**To: Lance**

Cross my heart

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Ew, no

Cross-my-heart is so creepy

Just promise like a normal person

**To: Lance**

You’re so weird

I promise

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Yeah, but you love it

And EAT SOMETHING

**To: Lance**

I do

Love you

I do love you

Sorry, that was a mess

**To: KEEEEEITH**

You’re a mess

**To: Lance**

Yep

**To: KEEEEEITH**

Love you too, babe

EAT SOME FOOD

GET SOME SLEEP

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

**To: Lance**

<3

…

            Tony is not expecting to almost literally run into his boss at a convenience store at 1am. But there Kogane is, clutching a bag of Fritos chips and staring down a shelf full of microwave chili. He’s swaying slightly and has three pencils jammed through his stubby ponytail.

            “Oh my god,” Tony exclaims before he can stop himself, “did you follow me all the way out here to yell at me for not being off-book yet?”

            Kogane doesn’t fully turn to face him, just kind of rotates his head vaguely in Tony’s direction and blinks, “You don’t have to be off-book for another week.”

            “Yeah, but that is literally the only explanation I’m coming up with for why you’re here.”

            “The world doesn’t actually revolve around you,” Kogane says flatly, then turns back to microwave chili. “They don’t sell my brand.”

            “Huh?” Tony is not sure what’s going on here, but he’s mildly creeped out seeing his stage manager going full zombie in a convenience store.

            “My brand. They don’t sell it. What kind of convenience store doesn’t sell the good brand of chili?”

            This just got a whole new level of weird.

            “Why are you _here_?” Tony demands.

            “I’m working at the theatre down the road. Temporarily,” he blinks, head snapping back around to stare at Tony, “What are you doing here?”

            “I live here. It’s cheaper.” It’s where he could find something he could afford on a post-grad budget of next-to-nothing.

            “But why are you _here_? You have work tomorrow.”

            “Yeah, so do you.” Tony really shouldn’t antagonize his zombie-boss. He’s seen well-rested Kogane sucker-punch a coffee maker when it didn’t do his bidding. The man’s a machine. An unpredictable machine with a mean right hook.

            Kogane shrugs, “Have to make revisions to the cuebook,” his attention is once again captured by the microwave chili, “I don’t want to try a new fucking brand.”

            “Oh my god, just pick one,” Tony grabs a chili at random and chucks it into the little plastic basket Kogane is holding.

            Kognae stares at it with narrowed eyes, “How do you know that’s the best one?”

            “I don’t, but you’re freaking me out. Like, seeing my teacher at my doctor’s office freaking me out.”

            “That makes no sense.”

            “I’m walking away from this situation before I have a crisis.” And Tony does just that, but isn’t far enough away to miss Kogane muttering, reflectively.

            “Why are actors so sensitive?”

…

**To: Lance**

Why are actors so sensitive?  
Wait.

You’re asleep.

Sorry.

Sleep well.

.

.

.

I fucking hate other microwave chili brands

…

**To: Noises Off**

Did you know Kogane is working 2 shoes?

*shows

2 shows?

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Wtf

Tony

Why are you awake?

**To: Noises Off**

Wtf

Farid

Why are you?

And my roommates suck

I’m hanging out at the 7-Eleven

Saw our boss

It was freaky

Kogane in the wild

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

WHAAAAAT

SPILL

NOW, BITCH

**To: Noises Off**

That’s not a term of endearment

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Good thing I don’t endear you

**To: Noises Off**

Why do I talk to you?

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Out Mutual Loathing keeps us strong

We’re each other’s foils

Like Burr and Hamilton

Or Jefferson and Hamilton

Or…I’m running out of Hamilton examples

And I’m fabulous

**To: Noises Off**

You have a problem

With Hamilton

Our recreational loathing is totally normal

And I’m the fabulous one, duh

Anyway

Kogane

7-Eleven at 1am

Freaky

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

WTF IS HE DOING THERE

That’s it

I’m texting Theatre Mom

**To: Noises Off**

Who?

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Lance

His boyfriend

Our theatre mom

Which you would know

If you EVER ACCEPTED AN INVITE EVER

**To: Noises Off**

I have a life

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

No you don’t

You’re in theatre

NONE OF US HAVE A LIFE

**To: Noises Off**

Whatever

I feel weird hanging out at my boss’ house

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Trust me

You’re the least weird thing there

THE LEAST WEIRD THING

**To: Noises Off**

Whatever

Did you know Kogane is obsessed with microwave chili?

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

Wut

I can’t process this

Microwave chili?

The same guy…

…who makes us eat vegetables…

…is obsessed with microwave chili…

**To: Noises Off**

Yeah?

He’s got a favorite brand

He seemed really out of it, though

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

I’m still stuck on

Kogane

And microwave chili

**To: Noises Off**

Has he been sick or something?  
He just seemed really weird.

Like, tech-week weird

But worse

**To: The Tonys Were Named After Me**

He’s fine

He’d say something if he wasn’t

He’s Kogane

He’s always fine

Don’t worry, dude

**To: Noises Off**

Sure, I guess you’re right

Still

Microwave chili

Weird

…

            Keith makes it through the week; he closes the show. The worst should be over now, right? He’s back to just two shows now. Two shows is manageable. He’ll manage. Hell, he used to do a full course load; work part-time and stage manage in school. It’s fine. He can work the shows, do the day-to-day business of the theatre and wrangle the interns. It’s fine. He can do this.

…

            He’s not sure he can do this.

…

            Keith wakes up in a panic, shaking and wheezing after getting two hours of sleep one night. Lance, sleeping like the dead as usual beside him, rolls closer and Keith isn’t sure if he wants to run away screaming, unable to bear human contact at the moment or if he wants to wrap his entire body around his boyfriend and cling as close as he can. Checklists run through his brain and he can’t shake the thought that he’s forgotten something, that there’s something left to do and he’ll never know he should have done it until it’s too late because he forgot to put it on one of his thousands of notes to himself in his meticulously organized notebooks – or, wait, what if he’s mixed up the notebooks? What if his cuebook for the in-town show is at the other theatre? What if he’s behind?

            He flinches violently, jolted back into his body by the slight pressure of Lance pressing his forehead into Keith’s shoulder, cuddling closer like an affectionate kitten in his sleep and it’s sweet and endearing and all Keith wants is be able to just sink into this casual affection, to be able to absorb all this love and care. But he feels calcified, like whatever membranes outside feelings might seep through have turned rigid and unyielding. Like osmosis has stopped and he’s a dead cell craving that which it cannot let in.

            He releases the air he’s locked in his lungs with barely a sound and presses closer to Lance, trying to shut down the thoughts clamoring for his attention. He doesn’t wake Lance up, though. As much as he’s craving another voice to drown out the noise, he doesn’t want to bother his boyfriend, who, a quick glance at the clock reveals, has to be awake for work in less than two hours.

            No, Keith will be fine like this.

            Keith lies awake until Lance’s alarm wails and pretends it happened to wake him up too, following Lance downstairs for coffee and breakfast. He compulsively checks his messenger bag and notebooks while Lance is distracted scrambling eggs, though.

…

            Kogane drinks a lot of coffee. All the interns know it. They don’t really talk about it; they just sort of accept it as a part of the natural order of things. It snows in the winter, tech week sucks, Kogane is 90% pure undiluted caffeine.

            So when Alyssa runs into Keith at Starbucks on the way to the theatre and watches him get the largest latte possible with two extra shots of espresso she doesn’t do much other than trade resigned grimaces with him.

            And when Adela asks him if he wants her to refill his mug when she makes a new pot of coffee in the green room she isn’t surprised when he just hands her his ‘World’s Okayest Boyfriend’ thermos.

            And when Kogane stops by the dimmer room where Farid is fiddling with a speaker, Farid is delighted to relate his (extremely complicated) coffee order when Kogane asks him if he wants anything from Starbucks since he’s going on a coffee run.

            Tony stares at him when he sees the stage manager push his way through the lobby doors carrying coffees for half the staff. “How much coffee do you even drink?”

            “Enough,” is Kogane’s flat response.

            So no, no one is individually all that surprised by how much coffee Kogane consumes that day. But taken all together they might have been concerned.

…

            Tony has never been more grateful for upstate winters. His grandma knit him the World’s Softest Scarf for Christmas when he moved to New York for school and he has carried it with him from October to April every year since. And he was dumb enough to leave it in the rehearsal room. He catches himself halfway out the door and swears when the chill of a frozen northern February wraps around his unprotected neck.

            Muttering irritably to himself he turns back around to return to the rehearsal room and retrieve The Perfect Scarf. (Dammit, he’d hoped to beat his asshole roommates back to the apartment – they’re moderately less obnoxious when he gets home first and stakes a claim on the good chair in the living room.)

            He jogs back up to the rehearsal room, throws the door open, tosses a greeting to Kogane (Adela must be in the other room, putting rehearsal props away or something) and grabs his scarf. Kogane makes some kind of vague reply, Tony sees him stand up and take a few steps somewhere, probably moving to put the chairs away or something.

            What happens next does not happen in slow motion and whoever says shitty things happen in slow motion is a fucking lair according to Antonio Rossi because he nearly misses the falter in his boss’s step and only catches a sudden, sharp motion out of the corner of his eye. And then he’s turning (that part might be in slow motion, it feels slower than what’s happening on the other side of the room) just in time to see his stage manager hit the ground in a dead faint.

…

            “ADELA!” Tony’s screaming like a child and oh shit, oh shitshitshit, Kogane is unconscious, why is he unconscious? What is happening? Tony is THE LEAST QUALIFIED PERSON EVER to deal with suddenly unconscious people. “ _ADELA,”_ he yells for her again because Adela is the mini-Kogane, she’s his heir in all things scary-competent. Adela will know what to do.

            He doesn’t remember much from the first aid they forced them all to learn in eighth grade health class but he knows how to check for a pulse. He kneels besie Kogane, pressing shaking fingers to the pulse-point at his throat. It’s there but maybe it’s faint? Or maybe Tony is just really shitty at taking people’s pulses. Kogane’s skin is paper-dry and that’s a little terrifying because Tony is pretty sure skin isn’t supposed to be like that.

            “What, Tony?” Adela demands, stalking into the room, looking irritated, but then she catches sight of Kogane and her face folds like a cheap card trick, “Oh my god, what happened?”

            “I don’t know, he was walking, he was fine, and now he’s on the floor? Adela, what do we do?” Tony sounds scared. Tony is scared.

            “We get him to the hospital.” See? Adela knows what to do. Tony tries to breathe. Turns out all that training on how to let your feelings through and live with emotional honesty onstage does not equip you for staying calm in situations like this.

            “Do we call 911?”

            “Do you have a car?”

            “No, I take the bus.” He’s missed his bus.

            “Okay, I have a car.” Adela’s amber eyes are huge in her face, her full lips pressed together fretfully, “Go down to the green room, get some juice boxes.”

            “ _What_?”

            “Just do it. I’m going to try to wake him up, meet us here with the juice boxes, okay? I think he’s dehydrated.”

            “Okay, juice boxes. I can do that.”

            Tony does that.

…

            Kogane’s eyes are open but he’s not fully present when Tony gets back. They still manage to load him into Adela’s car; Adela gets him into the backseat and orders Tony to stay with him before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

            They keep Kogane moderately aware the entire drive, Tony making him take tiny sips of the juice box on Adela’s orders. Up close his dark circles are a deep bruised purple and his skin is vampire pale. He eyes are bloodshot. It’s really fucking scary.

            Tony focuses on the juice box and making sure Kogane drinks it. Juice boxes are simple. Juice boxes Tony can handle.

…

            Adela gets Kogane admitted swiftly thorugh sheer volume and force of personality. It’s kind of magnificent. The quelling look she shoots their boss when he tries to say he’s fine, just a little tired is enough to freeze _Tony’s_ blood. And she’s not even mad at him.

            “Dude, just let them admit you,” Tony babbles at his boss, “Please let them admit you. You can be as mad at us as you want. You can take away our stipends. You can never give us anything good ever again. Rehearsal every day until the end of time, just please let them admit you, you’re seriously freaking us out.”

            They get Kogane admitted.

…

            As soon as some official-looking people bully Kogane into a wheelchair and wheel him officiously away Adela sags on her feet and Tony lets out a very embarassing yelp.

            “Don’t faint too, I can’t handle the pressure!”

            She shoots him a look, paired with a weak little smile. “You’re less of an asshole when you aren’t trying.”

            “Fine. Fall over. I don’t care.”

            Her smile twitches before fading. She runs a hand down her face. She looks tired too. The fluorescent lights give her usually warm brown skin a sickly cast. What is it about hospital lights and the way they make everyone look sick? “I have to call Lance. He’s going to freak out. He’s been worried about Keith for weeks.”

            “Do you want me to do it?” Tony doesn’t know why he offers; it’s a terrible idea. But she looks so tired.

            “No, sorry, he doesn’t know you. I’ll be better coming from me,” she gives him an apologetic smile.

            “Is there anything I can do?”

            “Keep hassling the doctors until they tell us what’s going on?”

            “Hassling I can do.”

…

            So Shiro-Keith’s-brother is actually a terrifying human being. He’s only a little bit taller than Tony but far broader and more muscular and generally imposing. The fact that he looks absolutely furious that this even happened does not make this conversation any easier. Tony is seriously regretting agreeing to hassle people for Adela. Because of course the first person he grabs and asks “Anything on Kog- um, sorry, Keith Kogane? Any news on him?” is of course Kogane’s older brother, who happens to be a nurse.

            This is not shaping up to be Tony’s day.

            At all.

            “Keith Kogane?” Nurse-Mc-Terrifying growls and Tony actually backs up a step.

            “Yeah? Dark hair, looks exhausted all the time, kind of mean?” Tony feels a little bad that these are the best descriptors he can come up with on the spot.

            The muscle man in scrubs’ jaw tightens. “Goddammit, what happened?”

            “Uh, he passed out? At work? We’re – ” he gestures between himself and Adela, who is hunched around her phone, presumably talking to Lance. “interns. At the theatre. And he’s been looking really bad for the past few weeks and he’s working two jobs and…just…collapsed.”

            “Dammit, Keith,” the nurse looks equal parts stricken and furious.

            “I’m sorry, who are you?”

            “I’m his brother.”

            Well shit.

            “Can you find out what’s going on? I think Adela needs something to tell his boyfriend.”

            “Oh, I’ll find out what’s going on.” And with that ominous statement he disappears.

…

            Keith wakes up in strange bursts. He remembers Shiro looming over the poor bastard placing his I.V. “We will be having _words_ , Keith Copernicus Kogane.”

            “Not my middle name,” Keith mumbles.

            “I don’t give a fuck. I do give a fuck that you’re in the _hospital_.”

            Whatever else Shiro says is lost to the buzzing in his ears as he fades out again.

…

            Keith surfaces next and he’s lying down? Why is he lying down? And Lance is hunched over his prone form and there are tears in his eyes. Why is Lance crying? Lance shouldn’t cry. Keith thinks he says something to this affect and a tear hits his face as if to prove him wrong. Keith kind of wants to fight that tear.

            But he’s fading again.

…

            The interns are there briefly, or some of them. Adela and Tony. Tony’s face is ashen and pale, there’s something tight and fretful around Adela’s eyes.

            “They’re keeping you overnight, you’re dehydrated and exhausted and kind of malnourished.”

            “Your brother is fucking frightening. And your boyfriend cried. Worst boss ever.”

            “Tony is very worried about you, as you can see,” Adela lets out a weak laugh, “Please get better soon. I texted the others, they’ll come see you tomorrow. I didn’t think you’d want them here.”

            Wouldn’t want them to see this. Yeah. Sounds about right.

            He blinks, slowly, “Thank you,” he rasps. He’s not sure what specifically he’s thanking them for but he feels like it needs to be said. He feels like there’s something else to be said, to be done, but he can’t remember it at the present moment so he just goes with something tried and true. “Get your ass off book, Tony.”

            He fades out again to their watery laughter.

…

            He’s fully aware again, but somehow it’s very late at night, the light filtering into his hospital room is silvery and the working lights are dimmed. Why is he in a hospital? What’s stuck in his arm? The tape itches and he goes to scratch at it but his free hand is clenched between two familiar ones.

            Lance.

            He’s asleep, slumped in a chair beside Keith’s bed, clinging to his hand. His brown hair sticks up everywhere, the nighttime light draining the nuances from its color and shading it all flat and dark. Keith’s fingers twitch involuntarily in his grip and Lance startles awake.

            “Keith?” Lance blinks a few times, disoriented, expression shifting, turing tender at the sight of Keith watching him. He releases his two-hand grip on Keith’s fingers to reach up and run gentle fingertips over the curve of his cheek, the pad of his thumb gently skimming under one eye, tracing the dark circle there, “You awake, baby?”

            Something twists in Keith’s stomach. Lance almost never calls him baby. That’s reserved for extreme moments, defenseless, soft moments.

            He nods, “Yeah. What…what happened?”

            “You were very reckless and stupid and I’m so mad at you and I’m gonna yell at you for a long time when you’re not mostly-dead and I’ll probably switch languages in the middle and I’m begging you now, do not google translate anything I say because I am _so, so mad at you_ , but baby, you’re awake and you scared me really badly.”

            “I’m sorry?” Keith says softly because he’s not really sure what’s happening here but Lance looks like he might cry again and Lance should never, ever look like that.

            “Oh, Keith.”

            “I’m sorry.” Keith doesn’t know what else to say.

            “You scared me.”

            “I’m sorry.” Keith’s eyes might be watering.

            “Hey, no, no crying. You’re dehydrated. You need those fluids, you asshole.”

            Keith blinks and tells himself not to cry. It mostly works. “What happened?” he asks again.

            “You almost literally worked yourself to death, baby. You collapsed. The interns had to bring you here. You nearly gave Tony a stroke.”

            “You keep calling me baby.”

            “I have too many feelings right now.”

            “It’s okay,” Keith pauses, he’s tired again, he wants to rest some more, but Lance is too far away and he still looks too sad, “Come here?”

            “I’m pretty sure hospital beds aren’t meant for two.”

            “Please?”

            “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try to fit, geez.”

            Keith drifts off again, Lance a warm line along his I.V.-free side.

…

            He wakes up again to no Lance and a room full of Shiro in full lecture-mode. Halfway through a very medically-detailed chastisement Allura shows up and joins the fun. They tag-team him with all the facts about how an all-coffee diet is a bad idea on every level, occasionally pausing for Shiro to say “YOU COULD HAVE DIED” very intensely at different volumes.

            It’s absolutely miserable and Keith can’t even escape because he’s shackled to a bag full of life-giving fluids and nutrients.  

            Lance looks very smug when he walks in on this and totally ignores Keith’s pleading glances, the jerk.

…

            The interns come by later, after Shiro and Allura have returned to their actual jobs and Lance has gone to get a sandwich because hospitals don’t have room service and Allura made him leave Keith’s side with a very pointed, “If you end up in a hospital bed because your idiot ended up in a hospital bed I’m kicking both your asses, Hippocratic Oath be damned.”

            Keith tastefully does not make a very easy ‘Hippocratic – Hypocritical’ pun.

            Farid and Alyssa are very emotional in his general direction. Alyssa even cries and says she’s sorry for not noticing he wasn’t feeling well – as if Keith would let the kids notice something this small. He’s supposed to be the adult here; he can’t be burdening them with his problems. Farid is just kind of hysterical but does a good job comforting Alyssa when she can’t stop leaking tears. Adela eventually sends them downstairs to see Lance and get their own sandwiches. She and Keith trade long looks.

            “I apologize, Adela. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this.”

            “Shut up, Keith. Lance is always talking about how we’re a family, right? Just…let us be a family. Families are supposed to be supportive and stuff, right?”

            “Okay, Adela.”

            She nods and follows the others down to the cafeteria, leaving just Tony standing awkwardly in the doorway.

            Keith looks at him, “I’m sorry you had to see,” he makes a weak gesture, “Any of this.”

            Tony frowns, concentrating on something, pressing his lips together. Keith lets him think.

            Tony sucks in a sharp breath and stares him down, “Have you ever seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

            “What?”

            “The show, came out in the 90s? Teenage vampire slayer? Fights the forces of darkness? Joss Whedon classic?”

            “…Yeah?” Lance was addicted to it; they’ve binge-watched the whole thing on Netflix.

            “Um,” Tony frowns, “So you know Cordelia? How she’s a total bitch most of season one and the gang don’t like her but you start to get to know her and she’s not all bad and you actually like her in season two but she’s never really _part_ of the gang, she’s always kind of just…outside of it. And the trio have Giles and they’re like…a unit? Like a family almost, but there’s just Cordelia, out there on the edge of things?”

            Keith thinks he might know where this is going. “…yes?”

            “I’m Cordelia. And the rest of the interns…they’re the gang. And you’re their Giles,” Tony’s warming to this example, “Adela’s your Buffy, because she’s your protégé and stuff and Alyssa’s Willow and Farid’s Xander. And I’m Cordelia. And sometimes I say really stupid, shitty stuff because I don’t think but I mean well and…I don’t mean to fuck stuff up or be shallow and awful but sometimes that’s just what comes out because it’s expected, I guess? And I guess it’s easier? To be like that? Than to actually try to be real? I don’t know. Just. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying crappy stuff at the cast party and being a shit and…I’m sorry.”

            “Tony – ”

            “Or, okay, maybe this is a better example. You know in anime? Or soap operas? It think this is a trope in soaps too. Anyway, when there’s the dad and he’s super successful and impressive and great and there’s always the one son who’s nothing like him and he’s pretty sure his father’s going to be disappointed in him no matter what so he’s just kind of preemptively disappointing? Maybe that’s me too and…I’m sorry.”

            “Tony.”

            “I’m just…this was fucking scary, dude. I mean, sir. I mean…yeah.”

            “ _Tony_ ,” Keith cuts through the cloud of words, “Do you relate to the world _exclusively through television_?”

            That’s enough to startle Tony out of his babbling. “What?”

            “You’re not…terrible. You’re actually very talented. And I’m sorry if you’ve felt like an outsider. That’s…not a good feeling. I would know.”

            “You? Seriously?”

            Keith raises an eyebrow.

            “Just. You’ve kind of got it made. You’re really good at what you do, you have a great boyfriend and your brother’s…terrifying. But really nice. Just. Fucking terrifying.”

            Keith shakes his head, “It’s taken me a long time to get here and, well,” he chuckles dryly, “I’m apparently not as good at it as I thought.”

            Tony looks at him, kind of lost and searching and Keith sighs.

            “Sit down, let’s do this stupid introduction thing over again.”

            “Huh?”

            “Sit.”

            Tony sits.

Keith sighs. “Hi, my name’s Keith Kogane, I’m the stage manager here.”

“Huh?”

Keith rolls his eyes, “Just play along, it’s a dumb thing Lance taught me for fixing bad first impressions. Never, ever tell him about this.”

Tony laughs, surprised, “Uh. I’m Tony Rossi? I’m the new acting intern.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

            “This is super dumb.”

            “Definitely. Now tell me about yourself so we can pretend to be competent adults.”

…

            Lance makes Keith take his first day back from the hospital off from work. It’s okay, it’s a Sunday so there’s no rehearsal to miss but Lance says the gesture is important. Keith thinks Lance is important so he plays along. They sleep in late and when they wake up they don’t bother to start the day just yet, instead staying in place for a few long minutes that drag into an hour, just existing together beneath the sheets.

            When they do stagger out of bed it’s past noon but Lance makes breakfast anyway and pushes a mug of herbal tea at Keith in lieu of coffee because reintroducing caffeine to his system isn’t the best idea just yet. They eat breakfast on the couch, facing each other from opposite ends, legs tangled in the middle. They play the what-if game.

            “What if we’d met in space?”

            “Why would we be in space?”

            “Defenders of the universe, duh.”

            “Why does the universe need defending? Why are we doing it?”

            “Because we’re the chosen ones to fight evil, duh.”

            “So we’ve met in space. Defending the universe.”

            “Yep. But we’re still in love. And you still have mullet-hair ecause you make it look hot somehow.”

            “Why thank you.”

“Shh…and we save each other’s lives like every other day and they write epic ballads about us and how awesome we are.”

            “Who?”

            “Who what?”

            “Who writes epic ballads about us?”

            “The aliens we save from evil.”

            “Oh, well that explains everything.”

            “Totally.”

            Everything is warm and soft and perfect here, though. Maybe Keith will tell Lance that but they’re having too much fun playing this dumb what-if game, and Lance is spinning wild stories of their space adventures and Keith feels quiet inside for the first time in weeks. The real world is out there, waiting to pounce, but for now he’s here and this is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a few people ask for more detailed physical descriptions of the interns. I wish there was a way I could embed pictures in these notes but Ao3 won't let me do it without an external link to somewhere else. Also, I'm a mediocre artist at best so we're probably better off without me trying to draw. 
> 
> But here's the breakdown (and if these descriptions conflict with your headcanons feel free to ignore them!)
> 
> Adela: Warm, dark brown skin, shoulder-length curly black hair, amber eyes, heart-shaped face, relatively tall and fit. 
> 
> Alyssa: Very long dark blonde hair that falls down to her waist, the kind of pale skin that freckles or burns but never tans, grey eyes that look blue or green depending on her mood, short and fine-boned
> 
> Farid: Tall and lanky (like he's just had a growth spurt and not all of him has caught up yet) short black hair that's somehow always messy, golden-brown skin, brown eyes, open expressive face
> 
> Tony: Medium-height, relatively fit, used to be taller than Farid but isn't now (still a little bitter), fluffy brown hair that highlights reddish blond when exposed to sun, grey eyes, olive skin

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title and chapter titles from 'Best Day of My Life' by American Authors


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